Watermark: Pool is Closed

the pretty French blue you see
is not the water's marquee
but the sky-lit bottom of a placid pool

and a chair is not a chaise
and a towel is no escape
from the refracted gazes of an old fool

Local News

H er face is far away
and darker than the dust
the fallow dust that covers it
like the chaulk on a bell of chocolate
tears slowly doze
doze down her high cheekbones
they break upon diamonds
those soft brown diamonds embossed in her skin

the captioned reporter
nibbles white words from a blue field
a spangled field that remembers
that considers my red eyes and covers
the nudes the news
this is su dan
yesterday she had five children (sic)
today she has four
tomorrow we’ll have more
from this drought-stricken and barren land

the camera zooms in and stoops
she could have entertained the troops
raise her in heels and a lime swimsuit
shoo the flies dancing by
drinking from
washing on
wringing in the wadi of
the parting of her lips

i wad up the silver foil
from a milk-chocked kiss and toss
it into the fire to watch
its fuse (the blue on white sash of some
bathing beauty/virguled virgin)
ignite in the orange coals
it’s after
eleven
i extinguish the news by remote control

Chocolate bloom

Detroit Water

I t falls from the grey sky
and gathers in rivers

in great lakes and culverts
blue swales and red ditches

it's drawn into turbines

and lathes and silver drills

cooling and lubing and

cleaning and moving steel

it washes our counters

and our lady macbeths

and it beads on the hoods

of our classic corvettes

A Cruel Lens

W ater is a cruel lens
now, that i am cut off
now, that i have fallen

now, that i am detached
from the tree, and stricken
now, that you have fallen

and what will happen first?
will you evaporate
or will i flameless burn?

or shall we not take turns?