Sunset Poems

I

A dark veil of lovely billows

pulled slowly back throughout, until

the reveal and your sun is bright, your sky Aviator blue

II

I guess I won’t be seducing You-tonight

The snake that ate the ball

III

As to the aviary, as to the firework explosion of bird-clouds

the pieces of their wings go dorsal through the sky, half-witted and half-dry

only half dead, only half alive, and always there will be some time

to build a fortress in the sky, only later not tonight.

IV

the Brushman scoots the soot of paint across the sky

The hush of his heavy brush is Enormous-thunderous in the horizon

A Spider must’ve Spun these beams tonight

in a silk all made of Night

V

This Lover calms the darkness rustling in a furrowed hill

beyond the shore of light and the leavening blue exploding blue of night

VI

the earth asleep is Always-half vigilant

the sun is a dagger built of light

a lover of constant peril weeping on the rocks

a murderous deeper soul unimaginable

VII

The sunset melting is our good malaise

melted to a margarine of snow

The oil low pool of the horizon

the liquid bronze and the ocean of clean brass

VIII

The gypsy flute calls the colors to blossom tonight,

a whipped dollop spread by lathes

to bring on the magic and relax

IX

Sundown is a quiet place to the west

the direction of the dead

where they lounge

Warmly in gravecothes

X

A cat’s paw sets the city to sleep tonight

his gentle touch to the floorboard is

a way of warning the wires in the walls a way

to cherish the rose light, to love the blue Light, to prepare

XI

Then I remember the ocean laced with dragonflies

and dreams creep up my chimney sleeves

and all the soot is black exploded on the sunset drapery

and all the sunset drapery is burgundy for us

XII

There is a pair of fishes dancing in the sunset

in the gleam of the green waters

kissing their fins, playfully they gasp at one another

XIII

I believe in the sunset

there are keepsakes in dusk

when the cotton looks pulled fresh from blossoms

in a bottle this sunset forever

XIV

an eggshell spotted robin’s egg and crush it

the oily yoke whole and throaty it’ll vanish in my hand

like a magician steals a coin