Tim Seibles


To God's hairy ears, all this sad jibber-
jabber sounds like a bad baby peeing
on a plastic hymnal. Turn out
that serious face. Put down
your poison. In between everything
between us, everything keeps keeping
a cookbook of possible kisses, delicious
circumstance. It is only by being stupid
that we follow the scared into the lonely.
Listen. Enough money for the church.
Enough hard days. The bank n' business boys
cannot stop this mutiny, this late allegiance
to the whispering in the blood. Why
let anybody starve? Shhh.
You already know
what the blood is saying.
Tonight. I am a shadow. With one hand
made of light. This is the beginning
of a new weather-this shared breath, this
open secret. Hey, look how large
the wind is -and still you do not see it.
Ghosts of all good kinds have gathered
to shake the hully-gully
in your thighs. Surrey on down.
Hurry. There is already something
in just your size.


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Daniel Bourne, Editor
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