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Logging Time: East by West - West by East After Rauschenberg: A Retrospective
You Who've Come To The Gate
Improvisations
Short Fiction
To This Country
Your Suicide

Improvisations XIII
After: Six Marimbas Music by Steve Reich

Water: Flowing. Falling. Running. Water & Air & Fire & Earth &

They circle twice & come in low. Their ears twitch. Tongues dart.
From the brush they walk to the edge:

Take my eyes & run with them. Take my arms & craft a new room.
Take my legs & beat a path to the waves.

In your hands I'm liable for death.
In your bed I birth the lame & the mute.

Speak to me of fire, of the scars on the belly. Speak of flames in your bowels, your hot rejections.

Care for her. She's the feather in our last nest. Wear her with pride.
Take me under the bridge & tear out my tongue.

Breathe through your mask. Breathe & at arms length dance & as you glide & spin you'll turn & slip over the wall.

As the sun slows to sleep I feel your breath on my back & open my hands to offer the last bowl.

Here. I have made it for you. Drink.

Improvisation XXIII
"The water serpent is the God of water - the giver of life"
Sedona, CA 2001

He wriggles up from the center of a pale white flower & chortles & writhes & thrusts out his tongue & shakes his furious head & rises & leans out over his world of rock & dried nettles - he & his well lubricated band scout these exhausted zones - call down rain to lengthen streams & rivers - to fill these placid lakes & the enormous ocean with all manner of squirming creatures & fish & sleek mammals & when they've finished they search for the likes of me & those of us who have lost their grip or a lover & here they jolt the weak & depressed back to life & return to the desert & contemplate again the cycle of birth & death & rebirth & wait for the next dry season & those who wander alone...

Improvisation XXVII

"Oh, suck my breasts," she said & when I did she shuddered & a light sweat broke out on her forehead & her lips quivered & she spread her palms on my neck & spread her legs under me & waves washed over us & the sea took us to an island on fire & placed us in a cave above the flames where two waiters, one black & one white, opened a magnum of Champagne & served us oysters & muscles & shrimp in a light curry sauce & a blue moon descended & wrapped us in its cool light & we awoke in a village in Mexico where we found ourselves sleeping against an adobe wall & a yellow dog licked your face & we flew over the roofs of the town like newlyweds in Chagall's painting & someone was playing a lute & another a saxophone & you said, "Take me with you" & I promised I would & we met again on a street in Florence where a young boy was selling watches & another his sister & we took both & found ourselves in a pension where we could finally tell the time & the three of us bathed in the common bath & lay in each other's arms until the morning sun slid across the wall & we heard a lone guitar - a flute - a mandolin...