this poem is half way between here and somewhere, maybe a stepping stone only, between poems: hop scotch
the rose crystal
there’s an old man outside of town
follow the dusty road to his door
the gravel squeaks underfoot but
a simple stone called rose crystal
captures the sun
telling me there's a new paradigm
this perfect translucent hexagon
a prize for any collector but for me
only an omen a sign a mystery
so still the night come alive
an insect-driven manic throbbing
the skies you cannot see in the city
the universe is a backgammon game
each piece carefully laid into its place
hou hou do you know who speaks?
you're not from these parts
the retched and pitiless demons alight
no, no no just a common house cat
in a fit. you are a city boy
looming down and unsteady
like dough spread under the roller
wavering tip to tip and side to side
flaps down screaming and whistling
intensifying commanding deafening
the transport dancing down, but you know
that this will not consume you
it's coming in a bit further in boise
and a cah cha cha boom crackle
the cheaper the speakers the louder they play
don’t they?
beyond street lights this other world
to park the car anywhere but softly
there glares his houselights
like the eyes of our souls
like the jack-o-lantern’s dancing candle
what you know and what you seek
converge beyond the daily drumbeats
in the timelessness in this placelessness
where hearts unfold but you do not know
from whence they come
the old man reads the stones
he comes alive in them many stories
if i wanted science i have had it
and i am not without my fears
I am looking beyond myself because
i know one thing that is i lie hidden
to myself beyond my understanding
and masked behind many layers
and so much “to do about nothingâ€Â
secluded cold and intense
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