SWEAT EQUITY
Like falling from a winter bridge
in Minneapolis.
Absolute zero-ness.
11.32 ft/sec (straight-edge
it, carpenter). A little life-saver –
gold bubble of air
in the wooden measure,
Chris (dolphin fin-waver).
The little tree, the little almond
eye of Providence. A
sort of weathered prudence
from rough planks – sweat-bond
of every laborer in vineyard
or in field – Georgia
footprint, selah
in every cemetery, bard.
Like this confusion of nature
circulating good will.
Invasive humble
habitat, Roma imprimatur...
signature of spiral J
(Ojo de Dios,
owl o’Sophia)
out of the oak-knot, honeybee.
Lightning furnishes the room.
So fall into my heart,
Julie (where start
the roses on their river-loam).
11.24.18
