Behind The Forest
Under the tent
can't describe this light.
Under the black base
are blue and red shadows.
The ink glistens
silvery like tiny mercury.
Working to purity
music and words and sweat.
No tears
Forget tomorrow
Let go the problems in time.
Sun bleached cure
the addiction does not hold me
as the drugs
human drugs
create the sound.
Saint Augustine night
moon mother smiles.
Catch the flow
it may never be back again,
though possible.
Poetic form disintegrates
quit cold turkey,
so I can find what I have lost.
Termite stars shine
on the oldest city.
The fascist doctors
are no match for the
old man with beads.
Double digeridoo warble
aboriginal soul hum.
Sweat
blue meets red.
Let it drop
for peace of mind.
Fingerpicking violinist
weaves notes
through the breeze.
Words about money float by.
Hope springs eternal
as long as the well ain't dry.
-Will Dockery (1997)
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