The latest vast surge
Of iniquity
starts with the usual
shift and give –
O God! –
a shudder under
some distant sea
that jumps to run invisibly
to slap and scatter
and stink and stay.
Only in Holland
How was I to know
That Your heart is like a Russian doll,
and that my every approach
would find me
still deeper in You –
deeper in the dark star flashing.
Ante up
I give to God what my camera gives to me
A muddy image in return
for perfect clarity.
Again one chooses to presume
that the spider’s bite is not deadly –
that the legs under the bed
have no toxin to share.
Is the oak divided
on a cold morning
when the sun strikes
and half its life is coming
and half the world is gone
Wide-eyed fish
Swimming in their spooky dreams
Silent visitor
