Threeful

In the hold,
a placement for sharp eyes
spiders relaxing their hair,
my time was flailing arms,
like a count in place,
a count to accrue,
an accruing of markers,
mid-steps and tangled trees,
if until the past can be forgotten,
the foraged flames top the trains,
and the pictures replaced with micro-spores
trimming their beards for the arrival of the captain;
he wasn't from here,
he wasn't from anywhere, particulate,
he wasn't even there:
he wasn't just, wasn't the crew-- had to respond with listed buggers,
and he noticed a device suspicious to the round eyed rubbernecker,
like a currency devalued by tears,
him and I, we were the punishment for love gone bad,
love of riches, and property and fences,
for the dames to skip,
skip over and dismiss,
like the games before,
when no one knew the value of microcosmic peasants,
the bread the gruel,
big timing, infections of poetry,
counting on the spirits to help him survive.
She was my best girl, the best agent in the mists of summer country waltzes,
the fiddlers staking out the trees, the trees staking out the marks,
its hard to live alone, it can not be done,
but was done for good, for goodness, for the fear,
that makes every exclamation held dear;
she wants a sport that she can excel at,
a table where the meat wears diapers, not instead of legs,
living timber, thimble threads,
a chance for hollering voices to rise above searing silence,
pan-fried batters, with beer and blood splatter, latter,
when the conch is king again,
whistling mammies tell the time with their noses,
red roses, a current that fades,
falls and is pulled under and rises again when the sun is hot.
I can't figure out what it is about winter and the cloaks it adorns,
a second chance season for the kings and their porn: tell about Sylvester,
the one who chased the birds, and ended in a haze for his necklace strung with pearls;
again I was given to a famous Chinese dance, the spears and the colors,
the mynas and burlesque, but regardless of empty tanks, empty cans,
sooty shoes, the one we are waiting for, it is me, it is you.