by Bruce Holsapple

Sandy mountain road, twisting high
thru pine & jumper, into that saddle
where the peaks divide, rocky gullies start
hers, his, that rockslide or this,
golden sweet grass sky blue cloud
get preoccupied by deer tracks

Study the ground, walk penitent
No, remind yourself how solid earth
nothing manufactured, exert
yourself, climb, get it behind
There are stories, much more weird
I mean by respectable folks

& it’s not outlandish to think
love might induce love, tho it did not
& that hurt & I was confused

Wind flowing thru the ponderosas
pushing boughs, whirling needles
distant wash of sound
long waves of it, pulse & throb
stretches of green, of gray

I know you didn’t ask but
I’ve said it many times
you didn’t have a brain in your head
falling for that girl
There’s no way, nothing
& did it despite all
you’d think a man his age
would reach the conclusion
well, maybe he’s seen pictures
knows what everybody knows
a girl like that
clutching at the closest green twig
it only makes you feel older!
how you wilt & fade
nothing actually to grasp
save that conclusion

love is fickle, willy nilly
a force that seizes you by the throat
blows you up
lets you float awhile
then tosses you aside, used, why

Well, that’s not exactly true
& he didn’t do anything
you wouldn’t have, in his shoes
a mismatch okay but
only because of vulnerability

A lonely weekend, I guess

I never did have a SEXUAL relation
that didn’t involve intense pain
pain so intertwined with joy
you can’t tear them apart
“love & happiness” my ass

You have my skin
says Bodhidharma

Okay, but that doesn’t
resolve anything
you also have my heart
twisting tight inside
& the long wind as evidence

Sooo, the wind says, Soooooooo

you’d think you’d known better
confess I thought I did