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Collected Poetry

    (rd king dot net)
poetry and digital art

Beating Heart, Dancing Feet  

  After Bathing at Baxter's 


The mud people, handsome and smiling, wandered
across the pavement and onto the open field.

Some bead people were already there, sitting
cross-legged on the grass and talking amidst incense.

Still outside the park, leggy flower children piled
in muchly redolent poses against a grafittied brick

wall, and against each other.  Soon a pale woman
began to wail.  The mud people found this pleasing

and began to dance.  Then the bead people gathered
their guitars, and their tambourines, and tiny

drums and hand-carved wind instruments.  To the north,
in astute prehensile energies, the city rose above them,
      juxtaposed and listening.



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