(perception of pattern and meaning from
The skillet burns that appeared on the tortilla
rolled by Maria Rubio in 1977
looked just like the face of Jesus.
In the bathtub this morning,
a few strands of my hair
formed a watery peace symbol.
Would you pay to see this miracle?
What about snowflakes —
the cloud they fall from this afternoon
resembles another cloud
which resembles a tennis ball
served by my dead mother in 1947.
Surely that proves that all life on earth
is in a big intergalactic bath towel woven.
Somewhere a snowflake pukes on its shoes
in a convenience store parking lot,
At Jiggles, a half-naked snowflake
pole-dances in panties on the bar.
Across the world, another little snowflake
blows itself up in a crowded cafe.
Snow everywhere descending.
It gathers to whiteness.
Why don't we lie down together,
You look like someone I used to love,
Dream the Night My Brother Dies
Whichever way I turn there is a door.
I run in and out of the doors.
In one room, inconsolable weeping.
In another, a sad animal regards me.
In a third, a hole in the floor.
I lower my bucket
a long way down on its white rope.