A Man is a Home

See also poems 2012-5772 and sulam yaakov

Above the village of Koke
sits Moimango
watching over his people
sometimes his son
Gematsu
now also old
comes to pay his respects
in Moimango's abdominal cavity
rodents have made their nests
on his toes and fingers
lichen goes
his head nods forward
around his people
the jungle grows

__________

Island

The rain forest

picabeen palms and giant ferns

perfumery of

eucalyptus woodland

and rolling coastal heaths

shimmering with wildflowers

that make soft the hardest gaze

are all the children

of mycorrhizal fungi

that send their slender threads

into the golden sand

and gently pry

from silicate fists

the building blocks of life

______________

bubbles of regret

like soggy spears

well up, wrench me

if only I had made something of myself

if only some one had told me at 30 or 35 that money counts

more than almost anything

and that as you age no one cares about anything much

except that you pay them for services rendered

______________________

Stuck in the cellar
of late capitalist consumerism
and internal contradictions
and running in circles
to be able to look my children and wife in the eye
sometimes the best I can do
is stuff electronic notes into virtual bottles
and set them adrift
on the faceless book