work in progress

      work in progress


Tap two tears by the riverbed,
unabating muscle.
Frame the waters like mountain lakes
as clear as the limbs.
Inbreathe a tightrope of the sky,
the laughing goddess.
Hold firm the moment
and another, and another.

---

Improved thanks to DSJ.

? The Beauty and me

      The Beauty and me


The monster has a soft
spot beside you.
The monster, little angel,
in the heaven of your knitting,
the clumsy, patchy hair
with an ominous twitch
the monster mellows out
at your knees.

[a wooden bench]

      ***


Sharp shadows cut deep smiles in the glow
of those nesting on a wooden bench,
a lathe-shaped wooden leg
like a pirate ballerina's
props the lush scarves and potted greens.
Each a coffee and a cigarette,
a medicine man and a fado singer,
and the sun that has welled up for days.

[go all the way] (by GPT-2)

     ***


At nighttime light your things in a dark place,
like the light of a dead coal;
fly as a bird is moved by the sky,
once a breeze stops its blowing;
sacrifice your life to a dove, the wretch
where your hurtings were born, to a tailed cloud,
each stuttering blossom;
overcome the conundrum of life,
refuse those who sell it, empty yourself into it.
Shine like the light of a candle,
strong as a mustang's heart, come to it,
like a mule stumbles alone at night.

--- by GPT-2 1558M

The eye of the storm

      The eye of the storm


There it goes quiet, my mind,
composed, tight-lipped,
perched on folded knees,
keeping to itself
the teacup of storm.