STEVE DALACHINSKY

as collage 9

i bleed for the dead child

mutilated by its own kind

its true identity withheld no desires

or wanting

lost somewhere in the 4^th dimension

acquiring a sort of cosmic consciousness

new energy from the sun

lost in a net of changing weathers

intensified kaliyuga satya

missing spirituality

poisoned by medicines

maimed & crippled shown no

compassion

yet arising with a new energy

 not thru politics but thru music / the shape of music

& using this music as a vehicle of transcendence

& using this vehicle as a means of resurrection

as collage 10

i lost minutes today

& although they were not my minutes

they belonged to me bought & paid for

i saw someone tonight who may have understood

the difference between trying too hard

& trying hard not to try too hard

move

insert

remove

divert

delete

revert

i’d love to skydive

but i don’t want to be an elephant

caregiver

i’m not sure i want to be a gospel singer

but i know i wouldn’t want to be a

         SNAKECHARMER

as collage 11

if the bread is roses

& the roses bread

& saint such- is-life is

homicidal

& you can’t be more than you are

what should you do?

i would say give up trying

but this comes from an observer

not a doer

& many would disagree

& most doers never know that they

can’t get beyond their mediocre selves

or their own individual footprint

imprint

heartbeat.. & that their individual

traits are so much like so many others’

individual traits

the museum makes you look @ things

the way it looks at things

the museum makes you value things

the way it values things.

as collage 12 (for j.f.)

the father in the corner

mourning

corner one letter away from

coroner

fatigued

the glue finally come undone

the mother entrusting her memories

to me

because after hyperventilation & separation

anxiety

it is up to her to hold it together

the pieces slowly coming undone

there is no room for details today

she holds her teddy bear

the lover soon to be dismissed

crying looking bewildered alone

joking about the dark limo we are about

to enter

thinking it better if it were taking us to

kosco than the burial ground

the sister laughs & cries

the husband no longer to be

is saluted presented a coat of arms

then carried away

the way it wants you to look @

things / value things

like here in the cemetery

where there really is no symmetry

except death & morning