Poet as gift

I give this poem to the lost word – to its bearing and ball – & I give it to last a forever that is more river than eye – I keep this poem as found word – as wet as river – to sing the word into a poem – sink it as a stone would – would it not? to bring the word into a poem – brink of being word or wordstone – to stagger onward with the word as if it was the last one & the first – a poem is lost in the trees – it does not know how to wait to listen to believe in ether – give me one branch of one tree & I will give you a rainforest – give me one wordbranch of one song – speak into the hollow wind – howl it stories of lost trees & lost poems – the wind will whisper it to the other –

poem as hammer & chisel

the gumptious sage posits –
posits while

the bird is principally
unprincipled

in chirp     she posits the
undoing of

her positing     positioned
as she is

between a chirp and a hard
place –

Use the poem as you would a
hammer, a

chisel     put them on a pedestal
worship the

bam and cut of it and you have
the cult of

hammer&chisel     put the poet/m
up on high

& you have armies led by pen led
by the thrum

of beauty, benevolence, bravado &
truth (off, coarse)