Thomas Lowe Taylor -- ASTORIA

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1
Ease of draft, no texts resume.
It's a rainy day, nothing to do;
ducks are screaming by again,
winter doors are pasted shut.

Variations on the theme of light;
Wild Thing, you rink my spinky.

2
I deep your fathoms willing
distance of the known realm,
a future in its essence driving
toward renewal and the rain.

Reach in the falling rain, momma
hours falling, wind twisting
trees sideways, I taste your
licorice moaning deep again.

3
White crusted waveforms angle
in oblique southern diagrams,
laid aside by wind's designs,
astir, bestrid, nomenclature of
doubt realized by letting go.

In the internal realm, here's the
day with nothing to do, rain
falling sideways against me,
turning me hard into the wind

10-1-97