My Rain by Beckian Fritz Goldberg

I vowed not to come back
until the world was clean
the day a mirror in which the coyote
could see the shortfalls
of his breath, the trees sucked
dry by desert mistletoe.

When they tried
to wake me I said no.
I meant, Leave me

snug in my own rain, I
meant to say brain but liked
the way it came out or

didn’t because I only thought
and was too at home to make
a sound.  The greenest
butterfly was my best

hallucination.   It loved
bedtime, sports, and remorseful
children.  Yes, I’m afraid no one

will hear me.  Look for me.
Balance the budget or
remember the last war. I swore
not to return, to look for heaven,
the whole, the state of enlightenment,

while the gray stems were lavender
and headless by January, the brittlebush,
the tub of garbage
javelina overturn at night,
full of eggs and grounds
and cans, the names
we give to time.

From: http://www.diodepoetry.com/v2n1/content/goldberg_bf.html

Date: 2008

By: Beckian Fritz Goldberg (1954- )

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