The Poetry Of..
Rick Marlatt.................................................................
Tornado Warning
Like a battered infantry
called to take arms
and defend memories
of wives,
men rise from fogged
glasses where vodka
weeps with dying ice.
Cell phones at ready,
they move out single-
file. Though no word
is spoken,
shared glances of duty
seal a pact. And outside
the brutal symphony
of train whistles, sirens
and whirling garbage
ignites in swells of
wild color.
Santa Monica Pier
The French woman with
the pearled nostril
wants forty dollars
for this skirt of hemp
and heaven seed.
It's that word you haven't
thought of yet-
the one you stumble over
when I ask how much you
love me.
I've watched the patient
hands of time
finger blonde locks of
sunset from your turquoise
eyes as Novembers have
rolled onto one another in
foamy lashes.
And I'd offer each sand
crystal to this old familiar
breeze over and over again
to watch you search-
it's a pelican watching stars
explode teal across patina caps-
a kite that children couldn't
harness with nothing to lose
making the most of one last ride-
a narwhale running deeper into
new worlds that look more and
more like home.
Walking with fresh legs and fish
smell to the car-
hemp and heaven seed around
your waist
sunset dying a slow, fake death-
I love you now like the narwhale runs
and in midnights of waiting color,
I smile.
I'm Sure it's the Cabernet
Always feel smarter
on stormy nights,
the way the sky
flickers like brainwaves.
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