letter home

dearest(s)! and dearer still! and still more dear!

was afloat in the sea of the sky

(wondered why why why?)

but now i dare now i know now i see

through clouds of snow

greetings from my bubblebath

well, by that i mean my this, my day

whenever i say "bathtub" read "day"

read away!

whenever i say "poem,"

which i won't, read "stay"

the bubbles rise and float,

come to a head, lodge in my throat

yes, there are things i must still

requite and things that are all right and those must stay

unrequited          still

you you you are the only thing

the only thing

that i have not done, not right

(i was born to be lonely,

i am best so) (ho ho ho)

mr. solitary, my new lover,

he has just washed my hair

with a certain degree of flair

and already there is talk of betrayed

upon betrayal (out on an outback trail)

(like i said, loves, instead of "love" read "fog"

instead of "poem" use "delay")

love leans against

against my window case

creaks like a tall tree, like a wreck

hey, why do we always fall in love with a fairy or a nymph?

(or something like that) (an imp! an imp!) (but, come on, a

blip? a blurb? a blimp?)

mine is was blue with a pinched nose and a spreckled face

a mr. twisty shirt

imagine, a fate like that like this

like this like that in no time flat

the woods have transplanted themselves

outside my mullioned window    splat

and this morning it quaked me awake

to make me feel right and right

at home, o dears, i wrote you a pome!

(a long letter home!)

in one of the panels floats you

and you

and you

(one multiplied by three, if you count

the other one, two)

my little bees

i see i see (i see!)

while i am gone, please

raise my children up from the plain ground

your elves, my pucks and my sprites,

lest they go away to college

(to collage!) lickety split(e)

make sure they say their prayers

to the pale moon and the sleepless sky

lest their mother

one day die

and so far, so far!,

my magic, my book

i have not drowned

have lit my spleef

here, all bathtub long,

heard talk of having made a building sing

(all the women come with singular visions,

all the men just look at to me)

(art art here i art! but with

out an eye with      out

gloves a heart)

loves, i am no longer suicidal!

i drove my bike into the short strangled night

was lit by it

by conduct of some star

(mis- of mine (nay, don't say, of your?) own)

i made make my way

some star, three

the outlook is

bubbly is foggy

i long to write and right my wrong

to kiss you drunk and kiss you stoned

and stoned

the outlook

out back

is (i'm coming!) (back!)

(no longer called!)

up up up

and away