It's the first day of spring
and death is in the air

The box car is full
and slowly departs

Crammed with weary
old friends taking their
motivations with them

Into strange darkness
streaming down river

The moon's sole
reflection white

Upon the surface
wave letting apart

Into well synchronized
angel moth wings

In motion appearing
to be saying goodbye



for Bill Knott

Our lives strange trajectories
have been laid bare here
while I stare in shock
at the lines dancing
drowned in artificial
light, why it was only
8 days ago that I stood
in Mountain View Park
(a quite un-euphemistic
way of rubbing our nose
in it, dont you think?)
and witnessed for myself
for the very first time
an entire flock of colored
balloons scrawled upon
with various Sharpee markers
messages like On the wings
of angels, SYOTOS, I love
you Doug while Neil Diamonds
Coming To America played
and we all stared up at the
flock of helium balloons
as they became smaller
and smaller until they
precisely resembled a
swarm of human sperm
flung Egg-Sunward,
I even took the opportunity
to casually mention the beauty
of this sight to the Mormon Bishop
standing beside me, Hes off
to a new life, just like your speech,
I said while his back stiffened.

Ive been biting my nails all day
before I learned online
on facebook that you
had at long last gone
to sleep with your hands
crossed on your chest
looking as though you
are flying into yourself.