seven scenes from a vase of jasper, moistened by a salty dew

i. High cheek bones show two ells but here is one

The return of a portrait nude of a graying male slightly torn,

jagged with a careless letter in a distant studio by a raven pupil,

closed an oily circle that began with an initial smudge on a ocher flank

and ended with a volley of correspondence that slowly grew electric.

ii. A cough designed to catch your eye

The now pudgy former gamine bends over trashcans

in a discount housecoat of red velour with sporty stripes

near the place you met the smudged mascara that night

cycling home from school with the tears that made you cry.

iii. The uneasy disappointment of no longer feeling murderous

Spooked with calm tears in the bedroom morning after

committing the unnatural crime of square-toed shoes

near a table with blood red wheels; the smudged curtains

wisp a chiffon of meaning that perfectly freezes alarm.

iv. Chrome is no substitute for a welcome reflection

A vigorous smoke exhausted by the smudged fanning blades

pauses to snatch a callipygous view of hiked yellow hips,

as she bends over a linoleum counter in a short striped robe,

attempting to kiss the tearful lips of a spread white rose.

v. Etching over a careen that has no finish

Hoping for a curious little job by calligraphic hand

that will turn the aqueous face of smudged glass

into the smoky hues of sweet sticky forgetfulness;

the perfumey residue of nicotine on lips and lungs

releases gray memories of other hidden tears.

vi. Taxonomies go up and down

Of the thirty-seven ways of hiding tears,

the best use hallways three through nine,

to feather the short vortex of raven hair:

it was just another kind of smudge of death

and another mark of a prickly birthright.

vii. Again the curtains are revealing a creep

birch thin bones in a leathery box covered

by the tricky cloud that played the moon

in a vein pumping peripheral drama

played on a stage of rocks and scrub:

ever see a yellow finch of smudged green

lashed by raven wings and the sting of salt?

that is the mold that dually breaks the mold

both tearfully true and crazily easy to behold.