Wednesday night poem

I went out last night.  I was supposed to meet a friend, but she got tied up with crazy kid stuff.  So, I ate, had some good beer, chatted with some people, and wrote...and I thought I'd share the first one...I have to reread the others before posting them.  I felt okay...but deeply empty...so I wanted to write about that, about "empty"...

Sit With Trembling Lips

and empty bowl

cracked in lightning lines

not yet shined with

gold

still letting breezes through

slithering lines of snake air

    winding words, serpentine circular stories

replaying records worn beyond skips

       and repetition

to a place where sound           drops

drizzling dried tear rocks

onto unpainted dirty toes

Toes that danced in the rain

and curled around other toes

twining like vines

transcending lattice walls

Smoking-bubbles

strange and lovely

full of space

        and hollow homes to

minor-key moments

creating fractal lenses

in broken binoculars

should I look through

the right way

and see far away?

My eyes keep finding

the smaller circles

and tiny things, close up

sing me vision songs

from just 

too

far

away

and it makes me