God's Flamable Dandruff

I take
what I get
of you and the rest
of beauty,
these scrapings
off your heart
and God's
flamable dandruff.

Collectable sparks
to start forest fires
in my hair.

And like the fragments of some
rumored completion,
I hold them to my eye
and ear and lips.
Sense them.
Not to build a shape of
the Big Deal
from their pieces.
Instead, to read
in them their intimation:
that bits and bits
of disparate beauties
predict these patterns of
perfections
repeat.



by jerry gordon
7.29.09

Skeleton Day

Today is the kind of day

where I walk just behind my skin,

my skeleton's rattling clatter

echoing off the buildings and car windows.