Children of the Sage

Crickets rise

to the tops of sagebrush—

project light into darkful mind.

In this texture of night,

children are drawn

into maps of sound.

Like bats in the shadow-scrub,

they turn their ears to the plains

and travel cryptic sky.

And

I poke

       my vestigial

eye

   socket

into moments of leg.

The elk is

        sudden.

I

am

       really
                     looking
         for
                                       (for sudden)
                   
                                          cryptids.

The Animals

When a crow shifts

into the shoulder

of a pine, 

are you drawn

into the mythology 

of dead spaces?

Does it help 

to hug a dog when 

your heart darkens into cryptic sky?

Have you ever consider 

shifting your embrace

into the attention of a star?

             

       Have you ever hugged a bird?

I am trying to uncover
the cryptic

magic of rabbits.

Astralopithecus

If we could change
our eyes,

the eyes of an animal,
points of light

is all we'd see--
an ape-glitter in the dismal-black.

Love

Everyone wants
to be loved

and this is why
everyone is trying to kill me.

Cats

I mostly
don't trust people.

This is why
I have become a cat.