CRUISIN' AT THE LIMIT

Wyeth- Herons in Summer

Wulfing - illutration for The Littlest Mermaid

Wolfing - flowers

This is the title poem from my 1982 collection Cruisin' At The Limit published by Duck down Press in Fallon, NV.  Kirk Robertson put together an excellent selection of my work from 1968-1978.  The book is long out of print.

CRUISIN ‘ AT THE LIMIT

Glowing after midnight,

I thought there were demons

in the room and that shape

kept twisting and turning

adopting the vajra weapons

as points of light and out

rageous greens.  White

ring around each eye the

white of the eye black the

black white and seeing all 

too well.

I stayed in bed late half

expecting she would come over

early and knowing she would not.

When she got here she was nice.

I was nice too.  My words sounded

like they had been canned years ago.

I listened to how it sounded.   Fourths

skinning into each other, up scales,

down scales.  I worked in the yard

pruning roses.  Red light danced

around her skin.

The clutch is slippin’

and the wheel’s dancing out

 of control.  the iodine’s on

the table, the grid has caught

afire, the rest is after midnight

, comes roaring through the soul.

The forward motion bottoms out.

The lower chakras turn into traffic

lights.  Cars find it easier to

keep going. The comments get thick.

Yama slides through with his landing

lights on.  i light some incense

and go to sleep.  The coast looks great.

from Cruisin’ at the Limit, 1982

Duck Dwon Press, Fallon, NV