The Foxes of Black Mountain

I wish the Iris
and roses
with the hundred lavander and yellow
butterflies
were in my garden
the shelf
down to the basement
where the family of foxes
live
and the realator
brought the couple down

• now the property is off the market...

When sleep Comes too easily/We wait to run up the hill/the fortunate gather cedar as they walk

Dreams that repeat themselves-you never quite know if they happened -the one about the Department Store closing/these two floors have the sales/no one is in these areas-New York is a lonely town sometimes-the other is the room under the house in MaCaza-an elevator in the closet-sub-level-bureau filled w/ladies clothes/the Queen sized bed made made-If dreams are real but forgotton-why do they repeat-

Paint for your life,this write of passage has me on my heels

• Lately I've revieved the scenario-We use each other -there I am and here you are-expecting the other to understand-but we don't know anymore-the isolation exposes our basic need of other people-you accuse me  I 'm jealous-this dead end path leaves us frustrated and in a dreamworld which bases the past on the current.