From on High

who threw us from on high
as if through Dante's nine?
spiralling towards stagnant water 
still with a stillness crystalline
to land with symmetry's radiating plop
ripples rippling in the murky depths missed
then hushed once more
as if never did exist
Ah, who lost us in carelessness 
--the owners might
 not greater 
than the owned one's plight--
and cast us into failed flight?
down through the clouds
down through the trees
like a penny flipped from the thumb
of an urban myth
through a Volvo
through cement
or, rather,  like Icarus soaring through outer spheres
only to land on an a  icy plane
look how soon the twigs begin
become branches, then more twigs again
now so far where once so near
once fearless now full of fear
angels become the tiniest 
of the most delicate moth

The Rattle Tank

the rattle tank doesn't slow
'till just out of reach
so that never does one know 
if he'll be invited to breach
the portal and take a seat
and dine on the grind and view
the streaked dark and void of night
 one eye watching the cyclop's eye
staring back with distorted sight
the other on a demon driver
 eager to have our souls before the dawn
though our errors grave, 
our sins not of the mortal kind
so that Yahwey
 with cocker's  borrowed brow wrought
and disposition
serves us well if we not him
and secures our passage till the end

best works divergence 
on high school boys 
choosing a jackass and a cynic 
from the land of steady habits 
over the tired ways of old 
from oppression and rules run 
at break-neck speed to the coast
 where the silver screen tells a truer story
but not for tired old men watching a dead deal done
 assured by experience and hard work
 that neither this path nor that
grown up or worn
holds the key
if my love for you has split my heart
 and creased my mind
 it has not yet dissected me down the middle
 that one leg goes hither and one thither. 
 not to the soothsayer's spin listen,
 nor heros--it's no use
they sold their wares too cheaply 
 held up and celebrated for what they never said
egotists and assholes, power mongers and psychopaths
line the path less traveled 
 while the rest trudge along in single file
 wait to hear the next lie or as hermits do
 hide from all enemies