11.08.07 Canoa, Ecuador /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Some young boys lean out the open doors
of a school bus passing in the sand
"Favela Vista!"
is that what the red haired boy yells?
it's as if he ironically salutes
this division in his town

It seems so gray and broken
behind this row of hotel cabanas and bars
owned by expatriots
the Irish, English, Canadian and Norwegian

Inland, away from the surf
the school band practices
for a parade, soon come

The town gathers around a large dirt lot
a soccer pitch
bordered by single story concrete houses
boys of many ages play
and a dozen more on the fringes
socialize, wait to be subbed in
or rather, voluntarily augment the game
twenty versus twenty

Snaking through this scene,
these boys pay no mind
but the twinkling eyed girls
who sit, protected by abuelos
smile so wide and so bright
without even moving their lips

Wood fishing boats pointed
anxious like cannons
propped up and proud
soldiers, ready to harvest
a bit of the sea
providing for home
by selling critters of the catch
to a furry faced Vermonter
just passing through

2005 Oakland, California /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

conquering country

a lone killing ceremony

wild voices strike like fires

soon

10,000 fragile bones dance

rid of all sound

2004 Burlington, Vermont ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

As I tread
I am trailed
by a hungry coyote
he is fierce
and starved
like me

In my youth
with my vigor
I intimidate him
but soon I will grow tired

If I stumble
upon a stone
in the feild
I will dissapear
beneath the grasses

Then my friend of forever
who I know so well
will tear me from my bones

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