THEORETICAL PRESENCE
Poems

The Dream of the Dog Flying
     
      In the dream, the dream
      Whose idea still charms me,
      The dog flies as on a trapeze
      Impelled across open sky
      By a sheer will of doing so.
      An expression fills its face with
      Something akin to smugness.
      Its freedom and delight are
      Drawn upon surfaces so defined.
      Later I see a hawk deep in sky
      And imagine that it is the dog
      Riding thermals high overhead
      With short legs neatly tucked
      And lingering on a sweet breeze.
      The closest approach to the dream
      Is that lift made possible in mind
      Through a flute hauntingly played.
      Opening the eyes then would be
      To plummet not just down but back,
      Striking the ordinary like a stone.
     
     
     
      Artful Poses
     
      White as a blown cloud face, feast of
      Long hair rusty, the flaming thatch,
      She flashes thin in her morning nakedness
      As she steps onto a sunny trail, oblivious,
      Her completeness at peace with itself.
      I forget how to breathe at the presence,
      As if fearing to break something fine,
      A delicate instantiation of artistic tradition.
      She senses me and hides behind fingers
      And then slips into bushes by the trail,
      Shimmering white skin and green leaf
      Composed through fluorescent scrim.
      She is relished, appreciated, but not ogled
      In her motions of charm and shy elegance.
      Something painterly resides in the vision,
      Icy Renaissance skin, fin de siècle decadence,
      And Mannerist fingers covering a breast,
      All the poses artfully leaving me in seconds.
      She speaks to elusive inspirations of paintings,
      The modeling of such modesty and grace,
      As though I had ever asked the question.