Hunt's Place

I bring my
recorder to
tape
his birds.

I bring my
camera to
photograph
him.

(Them Hunt
has ideally
imaged.)
Sometimes

it's hard
to match
the sound
to the visual.

The go-go
boys dance
in such frenzy,
we are not

allowed to go
near them.
Other times,
they pulsate,

perilously
close.
Whether or
not they be

saints, they
still get
Hunt's
plain, golden

depiction.
Bird, or
other type
of faun.

When
relaxation sets
in, you
know

it's not the
cages inhibit
us, but
some

other fall
from grace.
It is
that grace,

however
tremblingly,
Hunt tells us
to avow.

11/19/94

Ephratah Secrets

   for Heloisa and Rico

Cold thoughts
near the window.
Graceful ice
and coldness

promote your
vagaries. You
are seen in
synch with

longings,
practical
desire for
longevity.

Acquaintance
shifting in
seasons, tree-
tops emerge

above the
hill. You
concern yourself
with

music, ideas
that spurt
forth from
different

areas,
coldnesses,
pressures from
outside

tell you
you live.
Otherwise,
sad phantoms

collapse as
dust in
a corner,
or float,

cigarette
smoke above
a televised
concert.

You sleep in
silence, not
wanting
to avert

your thoughts.
Nothing else
has meaning.
You drink,

and the
sky dies,
a paler
blue than

others,
systems
regulated
beyond

control,
contrasting
coordinates
in a vast

grid of
arrangement,
interaction
among

families of
friends,
delicate
precision

of living
a life
according
to values.

11/24/94