Clouds and Pianos

Clouds and Pianos

Holding an empty cup electric hot wire tap dancing 

on a fenceShake the red haired grand ma twirl her

great Grand father clock didya know im a neon sign that’s

tamed and I am also Llama brained aimed,

this archeology site is Exumed and they found 

tornados that were once extinct  I want To just explore

the moon a little further to find stones that were not

Scattered to the pink sunset with jagged teeth just oatmeal grits that are

Firey burn I cant scoop to escape the fire of the Titanic sinking

The blue mechanical fish in the bathtub trying to swim 

with bubbles of dreams it will see the tops of the waves

Sifting through flour though Ants have destroyed their ant farm.

Aunt Margarat wants to call you But you don’t care, she’ll raise

just a hair, off your arm, and you’ll Pinch the quartet’s

high note off the ceiling fan of The opera hall.  Cave men

swinging from ropes, mermaid’s falling Off slippery rocks. 

Sheeps stumbling over electric wire, now My Cup is full of guts, 

guts from all the factories, all the chaos, my head is smothered

in white noise- thoughts I shouldn’t be embedded in.

Maybe all the animals could be Noah’s, from The slaughterhouses.

Chickens, I eat their  eggs because my sneakers are worn,

but what ink on the ground Do I leave behind that leaves words

Written on the pavement, could be changed into new words,

That would change that pathway of these animals, and write 

calligraphy Into a new book for our lives?

A new life for our spirits to richochet in dance with 

one another that is sweet as honey

 in the marmalade clouds with the yellow sun 

and the red purple rainbow with

elephants and blue ink forever? What polka beat

do I dance to make this happen?

 Am I offbeat?  Or am I on beat.  I try, I hit

the black key on the piano, and I listen for

the right key.  I certainly don’t smoke a cigar and fart out a tune.

 But I’m also not over the piano like a grandma driver 

hunched over the car wheel.  I’m a lackadasacal

driver at the piano,Driving with a cool attitude, in my 

mind, in my mind.  Windshield wipers in my

head tired of clearing the soot.  Things growing clear, then foggy, then clear.

 It rains sometimes, then snows.  Traffic sometimes, then

orange cones warning of construction. I play this 

tune and the bird dips down to hand

me a note to play, I wonder  how can I make

the sun shine happily for each person,

and make each person look toward the sky

and wish it would form a new cloud shape

 in new forms, spreading out across the sky

like a bubble in the water Make each person long to 

climb up a tree, with jubilant delight, because

Their heart is rising like a stone up their chest,

Because their needs are satisfied But they’re lost somewhere on Pluto.

Some gravity’s pulled our priorities and 

they’ve turned into some asteroid hitting other

people in the back.  Can’t I stop being a banana

hitting people in the shoulder.  I want to be Belinda

from the Wizard of Oz, and tell Dorothy to click 

her heels and return home.  Really.

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