Wile E Giuseppe Gazpacho
Super Genius Senior Marc of Art
Pantalones Intelligentes Coyote
By Dana Gerringer

on each other's side of the pond again.
where you are, no longer qualifies as a distraction
you've graduated to an ever presence
from an after thought
moments without
and then returns
small returns
like small tides
the way lakes wish to be oceans
but i can smell the oceans
and i know not so distant shores
are patience away

and you
the luck of me
and me
the luck of you
chance and choosing
requited by purposeful relent
a little more than we mean
to divulge
but we mean to
it's an art

what you lay down before me
lay it out, in a dramatic unfolding
this your prized tapestry
and you want me to praise the intricacy,
the choice of color, the meaning
and yes.
all these things caught my eye at first glance
but now.
now i am lost in its vulnerable creator

and from my pockets
clenched hands
you unfold my fingers
and find these treasures
not even panning for gold
the heavier the burden for me to pull out
the more precious to you the art of mining
in your cradle hands, the scales tip
what once they weighed down in their telling
now lighten your step in the upwards of trust
quietly wanting the rubbing of another's
compassion
into the thumb grooves of what once
were only my ancient worry stones

these things i think we ought not say
pull me one rung, one step, one doorway closer
for every sun setting under my lids
you call the day back in me
and hold the sun between us all night
and then the learning
when we are to look solemnly up
into the eyes that have been waiting behind the last tree
before the shore line
to dive in
clothes dropped in a pile beside the water

we want to make rules
draw lines in the windblown sand
draw lines on the tide turning sea
but the ink of hubris disappears, rubbed away
by the erasure of our years
and we fumble with the knowledge of how foolish rules are
for the drop in a sea
or a needle in a fir, grains to beaches, breath to sky
all slip through fingers we assume to be a universe
comparisons are for us only in the moments we
can see the sky
in each other's breath
falling through sands and catching on a ring
of the third finger, Saturn, silver and asteroids,
Sunday mornings and
tangled sleep
breath and reflection pools, wine and
conversation, this nebulae...

the less the horizons - the longer the glances
i wonder if some day we'll ever look away
if that is to ever be us
how do they know?
the ones that decide to some day never look away
and the days pass like seasons
life cycles for what we conquer

are we to summer yet?
are we to the longer days after the growth is done?
are we to a blanket under shape shifting cumulus nimbus
pointing out the Cheshire cat skiing into a guitar?
are we past the sound of a telephone's pavlovian heart skipping

under my tongue
when i speak and work and sleep and dream
under the things i say as much as the things i feel
is this where you want to be?
growing in between what was left as paths to
places like this
after the quakes that shattered the worlds once there
is this what you sought after?
maybe you're the trillium's first bloom
maybe you're the destination

wherever you are, no longer qualifies as a distraction
you've graduated to an ever presence
from an after thought
moments without
and then returns
small returns
like small tides
the way lakes wish to be oceans
but i can smell the oceans
and i know not so distant shores
are only patience away

Dana is one of the winners from the first KotaPress Anthology Contest! We here at KotaPress are proud to showcase her work in this way. KotaPress Anthology Vol. 1, No. 1 is now available in our eStore-- see the Books section of the site. Look for more of Dana's work there!