vulture rock

like a scavenging bird hangs over a decayed cadaver
the fire rescue helicopter pauses above the steaming mountain
in descent they plunge into the succulent stinking flesh
to extinguish the rotting mound, a black smoke like rubber
consumes her face, oily flames licking into every hole
with hooked beaks, wattles tossed in muscular winds
explode with the feeding of the bushfire; an insane banshee
picking the bony scrublands dry. Not a morsel remains
on a vast and level plain, bright and painful to the eye.
Dots hover in the sky, disappearing upward into wide circles
a radio cry, then the static whisper of pure white ash

salsa verde

your blood
is hot
and blue

when i come near you
i know the season
in your veins

young and fresh
it sports like a
mountain spring

how do you remain
so complaisant
with this potion in you?

lies, all lies

poems
are as smoke
seeping through the grille
of words
from an unseen fire

bliss echo

essence of emptiness
upturned

like a mug of water
on my body tonite

pleasances meet
at home

where the wholeness
is found at last

i am a corpse
feeding the little worm of thought

i am the greatest feast
of feasts

i am the eternal unknown
unravelling an inch

every day
into the mind's open waiting mouth

a limitless force
moving with immeasurable grace