mum

well,

first, none of us played baseball,
that I come back to
the front steps staggered to hold
a short and plump lawn
like a car hood
                             that old generation

like off to the sea so spread
to take care of the young
my mother howling
into the blue intersection

I walk out toward her
barefoot

lark

she approaches
  red-breasted
  and flips

that nest which,

few feet
from fire,      ( she fought )

   held all the
   eggs of
            my
        moving mind
   my day-to-day
and yesterdays
  never where my
  heart sits

notes

    excuse
  all   sister
  and young sisters
  incapable myself
  why holding back

  tough much
remembering the
blood in my hand
   a fans going
      berserker

in a minute now
  a poem of
    little gravity
    my faces

oi-ing
four cake slices
     of a radiator
     grill pattern
              exhale

my pal goes
  to war w/ the
    world for

the larger
   and
  longer

sometimes it scares
 me to sleep
piano flowers

sleep tho still,
when I can I do
    I can

Say --
        health and
    soul
is all you're for
  flimsy

ready for the
next epoch
in my Garfield
  pajamas

green Chinese
          comforter

normal a quasar
when I was a
kid on A St,
     that
  was the
 name of
the microwave,

Space-bound
  electronics
  all finely
coated w/ years
of cooking oil & dust
           all
expansions and
renovations

my father,
in his young guise,
    erected,
  smiled thru,

(summoned
      almost)

these things
that grow you
out of their memory,
     which lives!

but like vines,
    creep over
     lush time

you    you
are beautiful
          too!