I think it's our imagination
And our will to change
Everything that forms around us,
That makes us like one.
Shaking the barnacles of age
And the mold of stillness
From ourselves, we keep alive
The constant movement
That's now beginning to show
All around our friends.
It's a laughing way about us
That keeps us expanding
In thought and in touch
From the written phrase
To the long call of the night.


The hunter of the night
Dressed in black leather and chains
Was sharpening his tips
And preparing his bow for battle
With the witch queen
In satin green.
It was a full moon
That shown silver rays
Upon the couples' confrontation.
In the surrounding hills
With the purple battle grounds behind
The hunter crossed the river red
To the queen's own virgin ground.
Concealed the tips with potion
Brewed tea of love
The hunter and the queen
In night's agony
Did toss and turn
Upon the moss mantled meadow
To consummate
To begin
The race of near men and half women.


Red and white lights cut the sky
Angle across the avenue
From where we are
Secure rubber
Black stereo surrounding
The drone of the tires
Down the boulevards
To the womb
safe from the overhead eyes
That flash the speed
Of law
Limited cowboy in an unlimited infinity.


The long
hissing snakes
of pain
are beginning to
descend into the streets
as the sunken
red skull sets
behind the blue mountains.
Across the alley
the painted women
stretch to greet
the green night
as the hunter stalks
with poised arrows.
Now night descends upon the city
Owls arise
to your call.
The stenciled lights
begin to breathe
and the city
comes to life.


It was the second of three
Wrong numbers in the night
That brought our voices
Together at first.
It was the first persuasion
That brought ourselves together
For a look to see.
And while you came
And went without promises
I wonder if I will see you again.
Or will the man who
Supplies you with dreams
Be still in control.
Will you call again?
Wrong number dialed tonight
Bring us close
From wire to fire.
Will you call again?
Come bring your dreams
And spend the night
With me.

Copyright 1996
Copyright is in force on all my poetry on this page and on all links.
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No part of any poetry may be reproduced in any form, without the written permission of the Author.