here are poems that i have been writing for you

one of them

lewis &
clarked my way
from indian
caves
to cherry county
swindling along the big
dirty
missouri stay
as far away from the iowan
banks as possible
because my pull
to lose everything all of the time
becomes fresh in my mind
catfish salt
under the nose
when i hear
those riverboat whistles
come hither
dear gambler
the pearly gates are open wide

canoe #2

bending my near broken
buffalo collar
bone
down the winding
niobrara she
lays lady finger
between
each western rib
my skin moves
a
map
telling me which water snake
will bite
my face sweet &
gentle
beneath an other-
worldly sun tanning my
hide
naked in a boat

new moon

you forget the small
things
maybe it's tree covered hills
or the blue
eyes
roaming
probably because you never
saw
them before or
really looked hard enough
&
her skin
reflecting light
from distances keeps you
safe
on warm summer nights

mapped


she draws
maps
with a small hand that holds
you
a grid to remember how far
point a to point
b
really is
though it lies
with the stretch of finger &
thumb
across great distances
pretending to be
there
held in
those hands that clench
your back
fingers dancing

beards

grown men don't
release
their beards to wind
they cry-
out at the moon "damn-
you!"
stealer of sun-
shine to hell
where you will find
endless body heat
& enough
long faces
fully
sad white
beards
all looking like gods

pioneers

counting bruises
oh
are we
apples
sail out upon fields
of water you
grow
w/ your soiled hands
she
drinks &
i drink
strawberry wine cold
laying w/ the low
forgotten
behind trails of bison
&
pine weave
smelling in sulfur
or mulberry maybe
we wait
for it to get dark
for our skin to hide