Don Juan Poem

Don Juan Poem


He has taught himself
the vantage of a crow

and the vantage
of a hawk.

Small towns light up.

The dead elk
is full of night life.

He reads the year.

He reads the contours
of the air.


Night comes.
First it is noon.
Fences blister.
The red shirt wins.

Soon the passage
of carriages
from the old days.

He learns the vantage of Squires and Dukes
and the vantages
		of barges.

Everything is putative.

You give up on
		the mule sounds
and on  the white door step
the foot print vanishes.

Soon night comes.


He has taught himself
to venture

and all the way
in the west

it is still morning

and all the way to the south

My Lady of Coral Bracelets
sits out my venturing.

I said
it was time
to pull down fruit.

I felt the bark.

I worked old carvings.
			Boats came
at the edge of the desert.

And all the way to the south
it is still morning.


Up the block
at the back of the locked house

	the moon
what the blue river sends to me

You can’t go up the block
to the locked house.

		The moon

what the river sends to me.


I haven’t
red shadows.

Black gulls take
to deep hotels.

White dice burn.
Junk knuckles in her arteries.

I made up my mind
hours ago.  There’s nothing.

Birds comes down.
In the rain.


Noon comes.

Greater birds
ride up on the heat from the marshes.

The eagles
ride up

and fond
stop at the gate.

Cold air
a man there

out at the shoes

when it is not

and it is not

They burn the woods
the carpet
scorch the pink paper
off palace furniture.

Immaculate encampments of silver.

Soon noon comes.