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Marlin and Davies

Uranium’s Song

I lay hidden beneath alkaline dust,
the pink and copper
of canyon walls
where mountains rise
from the desert river.

Neither blessed nor cursed,
I dwelled in silence.

Life never entered me,
like saguaro or antelope
whose hooves strike the hard hot earth,
or like the turquoise lizard
of long, still meditation.
I drift now, a tiny genii of chaos,
released into clouds
and green tides that cross the Pacific,
tainted by the burst spleen
of Fukushima Dai-Ichi.

In sandstorms, once,
I whirled through Bagdhad
after the smoke of tank shells
bled into blue haze.

I entered the lungs
of the women of Fallujah,
whose children were born
eyeless, with huge skulls,
and I found my way
to the ewe’s womb
beside the Tigris
where she gave birth
to two-headed lambs.

Long ago,
I entered the marrow of Nagasaki;
scorched its bones,
from within.

I’ve taken many lives,
but I never lived
like ravens
or slim cedar, whose leaves
are coated now
with my signature,
in the mountains
of Niigata and Tochigi.

I did not choose
to become an Angel of Death.
Before you came
to dig me from my place,
I dwelled in silence,
among sage and yucca,
beneath the red evening wind.
Daniel Marlin lives in Berkeley, California. He can be reached at: dandotdan@yahoo.com.

A Woman in October

Like a flower she stretches
this old one
like a flower
her face to the sun

she is’ the flower
she is’ the sun

it’s Western Oregon
the usual showers
as winter approaches

the coming rains
skies grey and grey again
you think the sun
gone forever.

Ethan Confesses

At first it was a puffball
then what was called a noble nose
till in time it became a great swelling
and a greater lengthening of Pinocchio proportions

the common lies of omission
and the many commissions
of daily existence.

Now in my 80s
it’s an old growth cedar with flying buttresses,
easier to cut my toenails
than to blow my nose.

Robert A. Davies is the author of Melons and Mendelssohn. He can be reached at rjdavies3@comcast.net.


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