Dropped Pages is a series of poems that were originally dropped from my books and chapbooks. I have reclaimed them here.
This poem was dropped from Everyday Angels and Other Near Death Experiences.
I will mail a copy of the book to the first person who can tell me what famous affair had I just learned about (had just been confessed to the public) when I wrote this poem.
August in America
were you lonely
was the music crisp
was her skin soft and welcoming
curves of an angel falling like a friend
did you close your eyes
slow down a
no where to go no sin
no voices no death
did you hold her in that end of time
forgetting forgotten and full
is there space for tantra in the new millennium
is dancing far away as birth
is your face feeling old do you look there often
gaze at the mirror in stranger
your skin notice something there
a mark not there before
and it’s not going away
did you want to be good
did you miss you mother
did you crawl into her go away and come back
with more than you left becoming less
turning in on itself
leaving a hole to gaze into
how much less time
there is to love
Ride the TRAIN.