Four-line Stories






folk tale


Satyr Amerind hybrid union dance
shadowthrown in hive chambers of honey light
andromorphous scream in self-sacrifice, reflecting
a dream-visor removed quick for noticing chroma.




caravan


Wind driven, a memory dubbed gaels
licked catlike at our sails; prows cut
dream powered; below decks seven slept;
under in silence the chevron of orca led.




In Other Voids


Everything has its place in the shifting winds,
was said. All of it trapped in the focus of a
magnificent lens, being outer space itself that
curves dreaming souls across to star in other voids.




On Mount Drone


The spectrum: light from fractured dreams
a dream: a piece of carbon. Every sound:
a memory of its having been made, and every
sight: a dream of a time passed away.




gone


Sheaves fold on a sharp wind, slap against
poles as desperate, brief want ads to be
ripped away by an unseen howling whose
chilling message is lost to no one.




1 comment:

  1. These five poems are taken from my 1990 self-published, second book of poems titled On Mount Drone, comprised entirely of four-line poems. I dedicated it to Brian Eno, and was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to give him a copy, after his charming performance at the Museum of Fine Art in Boston, that year. He actually played one of his new songs (from Wrong Way Up, with John Cale) by reaching over and pushing the PLAY button on a cassette player he had set up.

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