New March for an old dance 2022

Lost & Found Time

Daylight Stealing Time

So we lose a little time

in the wee hours tonight

We steal the hour here.

Conspire to hide.

O Please don’t wonder where.

C’mon…

Squirrel away an hour in secret

Pull backwards at the hands of the clock face.

Tick along with me.

Let’s make the red finger talk

as it passes us by again and again.

Tonight we turn back time

Won’t you turn back some time with me.

Like crisp clean chilly starched sheets.

Peel away the day

and slip in between.

Won’t you turn your back on some time with me

upon that maybe once perhaps we just might agree.

We might steal that time

hide in the lost hour

put it away somewhere

where they’ll never find it

never even miss it.

In the cool clear evening

after all the daylights busy color has faded

and all that is left is just us

clearly a jail break

a common escape

is in progress.

I hear sirens in the distance.

I see sirens in your eyes

They report an all points bulletin.

The authorities are baffled.

As we speak

Roadblocks are being planned.

Officers will produce snapshots

of our expired images

The ones we once looked like then

in the silence of the hours

we stole.

Our crime

is public knowledge.

The purpose of the theft

was always open

to common conjecture.

The motive attributed

to persistent desire.

It is after all

the only clues

we will leave them with

even if

our fingerprints

are all over each other.

After we are all over everything.

Won’t you turn your back

on some time with me

upon that maybe

just once perhaps we might agree.

To get away with

one secret perfect crime.

                                        – Greetings from Gridville  2005

Where the Blue Miracles March

I stepped into this light once.

Like a blue print dance floor

All the steps laid out for you

Cha Cha Cha

Charade-

All the future in the world

Denoted in foot Notes

-Uncollected 2/2019

*

Lost March Marbles

When you finally lost

Your marbles in March

There were these knowing looks

All around.

The rules are unavailable at this time.

As were scouting reports, rumor or conjecture

While all this then is just memory on the March

All heel toe retreat cringing in seasonal lecture.

The rules are still unavailable at this time.

The iris in your cat’s eyes lost

Looking in other mirrors

Small round and ultimately

Quite manipulative.

While at once some forgotten name

Is merely a marginally interesting game

So you’re left thinking

about more marbles

lost in the March

and just few of their names:

Ade, Beach ball, Lutz, Oliy

Onion Skin, Oxblood opaque

Plastic plaster China toothpaste turtle

Steely Mica swirly Sulpinde

So it’s down the Bunny Hole

I’m afraid with you then without a kiss

And just what game will it be next tonight ?

Knuckle Down Keepies or Quitsies

So you show them all

There Tiger.

-Got Abstract 2014

*

Locks

Throughout the day

mercy’s flame

flickered in the March

wind shaking

a fist in every face

rattled every locked door

in windows beating

cracking glass

calling out by name

all those who would

extinguish mercy’s flame.

Locked out from the inside

Locked in from the outside.

Did any of that matter

in the least now ?

Throughout the night

now barely illuminated

faded Mercy’s flame

March winds beyond

the touch to not even

fan

to combust dying embers

with sleepy red eyes

back to life.

No.

March was trying all the locks

the gust could muster

nothing was intended

to be allowed

to come back

to life here.

Throughout the years

now neither warmth

nor hope

still smolder

in a place

where

dark rings of scorched memory

reduced to white fine ash

to be blown away.

In the wind that March locks

shaking

a fist in every face

rattling every locked door

in windows beating

cracking glass

calling out by name

all those who would

extinguish mercy’s flame.

– Got Abstract 2014

From Seeing Eye Ear Fall 2017

                                                                             -Greetings from Gridville 2006

March 22- New Work- (additional updates pending)

Damocles[a] is a character who appears in an (likely apocryphal) anecdote commonly referred to as “the Sword of Damocles”,[1][2] an allusion to the imminent and ever-present peril faced by those in positions of power. Damocles was an obsequious courtier in the court of Dionysius II of Syracuse, a 4th-century BC ruler of Syracuse, Sicily.
The anecdote apparently figured in the lost history of Sicily by Timaeus of Tauromenium (c. 356–260 BC). The Roman orator Cicero (c. 106-43 BC)[3] may[citation needed] have read it in the texts of Greek historian Diodorus Siculus. Cicero used it in his Tusculanae Disputationes, 5. 61,[1] by which means it passed into the European cultural mainstream

According to the story, Damocles was pandering to his king, Dionysius, exclaiming that Dionysius was truly fortunate as a great man of power and authority without peer, surrounded by magnificence. In response, Dionysius offered to switch places with Damocles for one day so that Damocles could taste that very fortune firsthand. Damocles quickly and eagerly accepted the king’s proposal. Damocles sat on the king’s throne, surrounded by countless luxuries. There were beautifully embroidered rugs, fragrant perfumes and the most select of foods, piles of silver and gold, and the service of attendants unparalleled in their beauty, surrounding Damocles with riches and excess. But Dionysius, who had made many enemies during his reign, arranged that a sword should hang above the throne, held at only by a single hair of a horse’s tail to evoke the sense of what it is like to be king: though having much fortune, always having to watch in fear and anxiety against dangers that might try to overtake him. Damocles finally begged the king that he be allowed to depart because he no longer wanted to be so fortunate, realizing that the with the loss of normalcy has its price tag-

There Will be Hell to Pay

Better hold onto your seat their smart ass

And lend me your limited attention span ears

Thinking so what’s this to me?

I don’t have to buy it. I can afford it-another day another missed me

Sure, only problem is in cryptic nano bit coin consciousness currency- you’re broke bankrupt

Deaf dumb and defensive

Remember don’t let that mountain lion mouth

Write checks of normalcy your hummingbird ass can’t cover-

But this next breaking story is going to short circuit our systems

Like one of rings Saturn cleaned out of that high tech space junk yard orbiting

Franchising Infidels and Saints alike in a halo sunspot shit storm ejaculation/eruption

Temper tantrum Coronal ejaculation –

You on the 7 @ rush hour-Fresh out of Grad Central

All you want to do is just get home.

And they shut down the power all along line

Might not be perceived as misinformation

There will be Hell pay-

Our flesh is the mask we briefly endure

Mortality is just one old school infection de-jour

And there Boss- forget about poetry

On a dead stop in the tunnel under the Hudson

In the dark shattering silhouette stiletto razor shadows – O and your phone isn’t working

And neither are the other 75 souls in that car.

How much will you pay

To buy off today?

This hour is the same as last and right terrible now

Either tomorrow or today

Call for prices

There will be Hell to pay

Here’s me thinking the next unscheduled mandate

On the event Horizon is going to kick our collective ass

You want a promise ?

You want a poem ?

You want out from

Under the sword of Damocles Throne ?

Forgive, forget, and fertilize

Return to them

And apologize

And try to dig

If that was the last moment

Shared in between another strangers last sighs

Send in the angles to pull out their eyes

Even if when

There is (going to be) hell pay.

VQ 2/15/22

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