Down in the Wine-Dark Cellar
Wooden whale spouts,
a glass-handled horse penis,
a scowling pirate
in scarf and eye patch,
Sicilian sirens
stained and unstained,
elephantine tear-drops
suspended in time;
decades of must
and memories,
down in the shadows
and shallows
of the wine-dark cellar.
by Riverside Drive
New York City
October 2004
from The Speed of Sight
Inside the Fish
Inside the fish.
As you filet it
by yourself.
At your table.
Where it has
landed
with a bottle of
cold white wine.
You open the hinge,
and find
beneath its scales
the guts
of a grand piano.
Strung tight
with wires.
That resonated
as early as
this morning
in the open sea.
When the now grilled
and silent instrument
was alive and playing
a vibrant blue-and-
green water music.
Tulum,
Mexico
February, 2006
The Ouzo Hour
The hour
when limbs loosen,
eyes soften.
Anise, ice and water
alchemize.
Sun dissolves
into saffron,
chartreuse.
The upper bodies
of bathers become
half gold,
the lower
half blue.
Moon phosphoresces.
Spirit floats,
conversation flirts,
night coalesces:
the ouzo hour.
Gialiskari
Kea, the Cyclades
Greece
August 2012
Milk & Honey
I love milk & honey.
Chèvre warm from the goat.
Grapes warm from the vine.
Honest wine pouring through the mouth.
Songs of love, songs of the sea,
songlines of the spirit; new selves.
Seeing into essences, hearing into presences.
The Earth breathing with the Heavens.
Man breathing with Nature.
Sacred lands, story lands.
Endless mysteries felt and stirring.
All flowing joys, passions; possibilities.
Morristown,
New Jersey
January 2017