Wringing out all
forty-four winks of sleep –
the twisted rag of night
leaves wrinkled sheets
damp with sweat.

Carrier pigeons of dreams
in full retreat
back across the Channel,
messages in invisible ink –
I misread “blessings”
which means “wounded”
in Napoleon’s French.

For dVerse Quadrille

The sugar bug comes in the dark,
sipping on dreams –
betraying the sun
that made sweetness of day.

Early to bed, earthen to rise –
the night flowers
moonbend to jazz
crumbling from stars:

The Naked Lily,
The Zagging Heart Jasmine,
The Rooster Red Rose.

For dVerse Quadrille

She sang Pistol Packing Mama
over our cribs,
and Home on the Range.

A mother’s voice
wandering in the drybeds
of dust, rock, burr.

We lived in the next breath of desert,
the refrain of yucca and sage,
waiting for a lullaby of rain.

For dVerse Quadrille

Unquiet harbor –
river rats
bay at the moon
as if that last piece
of scrofulous cheese
out of reach in the trash.

Walking together
on the river –
your shadow splinters
in the streetlight,
which you slip
between my ribs
like a shiv of love.

For dVerse Quadrille

If the quick of bone
is marrow,
then why are my ribs so slow
to now take up your part?

Don’t they remember you –
my Eve –
how you filled their hollowness
with the haste to twin,
that keening heave
of heavenward breath?

For dVerse Quadrille

The time bird swings and sings
a tincture of rhyme
into the puzzle of dreams –
wake up honeybun!
Twitch back the clock’s tick tock
box of zz’s sleep caterwauls
claws the walls
trick locks in the tip of the trip of the
slight fantastic

For dVerse Quadrille

I sing you “Alouette”
je te plumerai les yeux, bec, tête
plucked eyes, beak, head
happily stripped to gooseflesh
killing you with my beautiful French
our feathers like songs
we don’t understand
itching under our skin once we’re
hungry enough for love

For dVerse Quadrille

I slid my hand inside the rain
To feel how smooth and sparked
Under hushed grey cloth

It unzipped,
My fingers parting drops
Like brushing open
A dress of silk

That first blush of cool
Late in the evening
Clouds slipping off
Their sunsets

For dVerse Quadrille

Muddle me this, batgirl,
hot mess me the question
that riddles your eyes

Your crime wave of love
robbing me of sleep,
mugging in my dreams

Leaving me dazed, dazzled,
that blazon of your heart
flashing like a beacon

Like a call to arms

For dVerse Quadrille