caroline beasley-baker
is a Poet +
a Visual Artist
"deliver me rinsed/tricked-out/clean."
"deliver me rinsed/tricked-out/clean."
peoPle
Under-
estimate the Ruin of
Bullheadedness — our rank/
self-aggrandizingLy
insIstent
goNzo-streak
of self-Deceit. hubris weaves a crown of
weeds.
. . . yet we pray to see . . .
Plangent —
susurroUs
tRickle —
suBterranean
liLt-&-
rIle of our
plaNet’s-life — us so smugly
self-regarDing — we mistake the purpose of a flower.
. . . yet we pray to see . . .
the piñon Pine
groUp (cembroides)
regaRdless
emBraces
the Leit-
motIf —
compreheNds air/light/what-little-water
— you&i Do not.
. . . yet we pray to see . . .
Petty —
rUdderless non-
Rhyme —
we boB/a-drift in our self-
Limiting
bIgotries —
&-woNder is lost to silt/
Dross
. . . yet we pray to see . . .
dePressed? dis-
heartend bUt
no matteR —
Beauty’s small
pLeasures
bInd — so
keeN/
Deliriously forgetful — a-piece with our-planet’s-tilt-spin.
. . . (is this enough?) . . . now if only we could apprehend — completely —
arbor • insect • crested-hill — the ever-rotting-mass. weighted sandy-grit of ocean floor
— our multitudinous soul. this aware-fecund-earth/magma-at-the-core — that loaded star —
happenstance our excitation within the still and gyrating dark . . .
"while waiting for grace to see — we eddy and flow — now wash me sweep me away."