MEN IN THE MINE
Copiapo’ Chile 2010 

From a putrid well,
pressed between copper and gold,
mysteries are revealed.
 
Surely we can understand personal grief,
a cry from the heart,
as one man thinks of his baby, another,
his mother, a third, the taste of wine.
All complicated desires are put aside as they
dream of a walk soon, up the hill, perhaps in the sun.
 
Before language from above rendered the rock
“We are here…We know you are there…”
Hope was already a moving beauty,
a constant activity, radiant in the dark.
 
As long as spirit has breath
Courage does not care who owns it. 
Spiritus is God’s breath in all creatures alike.
 
That is why the canaries kept singing.

A Victimless Crime
for Devy,  d:1984 

She wanted to be anything but
what she was, as her body dissolved
within itself.
She was in the nightmare of the
dream of the present
in love with her frailties
and various temperaments,
lost in her own thought
believing autobiography was poetry.
 
To find love without the fear of it.
 Even If we survive the electronic age,
 this will be the notice nailed to the door.
It is a limited offer… The holder
of all our books: How to love without fear.
 
 Questions on the quality of the darkness of fear:
Is it friendly? Even when occasioned by a medley of moral
lessons? 
What is the mournful understanding of this?
What is the complication of desire?
What patterns can be analyzed?
What is the quality of regret?
What regret are we capable of?

Who will know you if you do not know yourself?
What is the serious equivalent
of someone dying in your arms?
She, in order to loose a burst of happiness,
drank white wine with seconal, enough,
through the shoals of sleep, until
uncharitably, and without sympathy, she
separated the kingdom of herself from the earth.
The only Answers:
Now there is a ball of sun behind the trees
Now a deepening orange
Now a fanning behind the leaves.

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