It's a surprising thing
the way the light hits the road
the side of
my head aches
from waiting

once upon a time there were words about the weather
that brought back
tears to my eyes
but now
the heart aches
with waiting

she is on the verge
he said
of something
grey and brown and dirty white

now my hands are stained
with red
and I am working, painting
tiny pockets to send
to Germany

red like antique valentines

I pretend I'm working
so I forget I'm waiting

acceptance
the heart as well as the eye
I hope, to move
a more rounded
myself and others,
...and myself as I am.

Increasingly,
I use less and less
or, if it is someone
I would tend to make
I mean
I would tend to write

Or perhaps take a fragment
that wasn't intended

From a distance you just got an impression

a piece of white silk
half-sewn

tell me I must be in heaven
a word
like "hope" or "dream".
I've just whispered

I count the days.
the winter months
All the time

Oh I almost forget to tell you,

your work is truly beautiful.
an unknown entity.
I became addicted to

your sweet time.
captured the moment.
The intensely personal
I would love to know

I know that this has the potential for problems...
someone might not be happy
someone will want to try
eager to please a special person,

And you're not here.

Familiar words now carry shade after shade
of new meaning.
the feeling is mutual.
a historical event

Hope to see you
so you'll understand what to do

in the back of some mans pickup
You were the one

No matter,

I can ask for some in trade
if that's where your heart beckons.

The atmosphere of suffering
left an imprint on my spirit,
a harvest of excellent consequences

and they wonder why we are a bit upset

I danced up the stairs,
back to art where life is sane

all that you think
unknown

I've been neglecting

watching
waiting
wandering

while
I bet you thought we'd
forgotten...it
or

I used to ride the train to the city
last winter when
the day was grey

walking
wondering
where

I waited outside the building

did you

Ask for help if you need it.

(my process of discarding the superfluous to make
room for the essential) I can't help

but
I haven't forgotten
Until then...

I thought that was you
- where are you? -

I've been wondering what it would take to hold
your
Morbid Curiosity

Do you have any interest?
Perhaps you'd be interested in ours?

We know
you were the person with the
other found and made objects
a kazillion tarot links
an enlightenment that will lead to whatever it leads
to.
you should at least start thinking about what you want to do.
I
especially like your idea of playing....nothing serious.
wouldn't it be wonderful?
- for inspiration...

your head and in your heart
your inner battle
passion and logic
making demands on you

I am pleased by your interest
and cannot
believe that I haven't been aware of this

Let me know if you want to think about this,or if I should just
stop dreaming

the ice is smoother than ever, no imperfections to slow a rock
like the tree falling in the forest, falls silently
How wrong were you, about what actually took place
what is the outcome, and what is the moral

the first snow storm of the year .
fresh, clean and virginally silent, waiting to speak
each day a flake coming down
and disppearing on impact with the warm earth ..

Sooner or later you will have a grip
on those elusive and ecstatic feelings
a blue plaid flannel shirt once with flowers spilling off the shoulders
My body does not know it is daylight savings timeso I have been up for
a while

Yes, I think I do know what you mean.
And yes, it does happen to me,
Winter is coming, the goose is getting fat ..
please put a penny in the old man's hat ..

In October, 2000 I joined a group called Collage Poetry, founded by Cecil Touchon: "for poetry... created in a constructive manor like a collage. This may involve selection, chance, concrete poetry, visual poetry, collage employing poetic construction." I used Cecil's technique of "mining" words and phrases from my daily email, which resulted in these poems.