the sun was late
we help bags of cameras
and flashlights
sulphur and steam
scratched the vog hazy
sky like signals
ropes and cones
directed us to the
molten pourings
Mauna Loa, Kilauea,
vents, to the sea, more
mileage for the Island
we couldn't see the
soft stone from deep
below once magma
for the sea was far
and the foot holds were
perilous, the air cold
we wore hiking boots
we wore short pants
we wore t-shirts
we wore windbreakers
around out middles but
the head from the nearing
lava was like the sun mid
day on a windless deck
on a windless summer day
covered in asphalt
covered in asphalt
covered in asphalt
a mid summer say
windless and sunny
covered in asphalt
we had seen petroglyph
we had seen where women
offered umbilical cords
this place has mana from
pele, the goddess of fire,
of this cauldron
I hid my face behind
the viewfinder of a nikon
people warned of splattering
i inched in backwards
i felt fingers on the backs:
my thighs, small of back
whirled around for the shot
a single shutter release
and then back
two pretty girls from the UK
stood a few feet away and I
became more daring for them
i was with my lover but two girls
from the UK -- i had to do it
to slip up the older man with them
the sun wavered then set
the red lava broke free
repeatedly and each time
elated gasp and then children
took rocks and stones and hurled
them into the fissures.
thunk and then nothing the
lava was not even close to
liquidity. Viscous Viscous Viscous
and then the fissure broke and fingers
flitters through bright neon red like
the sign for live nudes on bourbon
a little honey all that black
velvet and red neon, but
of itself: flamboyant extreme.
the hard crusty french bread
pahoe'hoe lava beneath our
feet hot like from an oven
a warning sign: the dangers of
sulphur -- the dangers of sudden
fissure, of death of maiming --
warnings to pregnant mothers
two british nannies i showed
off for and my girl and hot lava.
lava surfing consists of parking a car
walking 200 meters with a flashlight,
looking for a while as sluggish
viscous
viscous
viscous
hot hot hot hot lava lava lava
pahoe'hoe, a'a, pahoe'hoe, a'a
crunch brittle shell
and then its over and you can't find the
British nannies but you have your lover and
you share a torch (for each other)
get into the car and
drive off and then lie
as to how difficult it has been.
the sun was late
we help bags of cameras
and flashlights
sulphur and steam
scratched the vog hazy
sky like signals
ropes and cones
directed us to the
molten pourings
Mauna Loa, Kilauea,
vents, to the sea, more
mileage for the Island
we couldn't see the
soft stone from deep
below once magma
for the sea was far
and the foot holds were
perilous, the air cold
we wore hiking boots
we wore short pants
we wore t-shirts
we wore windbreakers
around out middles but
the head from the nearing
lava was like the sun mid
day on a windless deck
on a windless summer day
covered in asphalt
covered in asphalt
covered in asphalt
a mid summer say
windless and sunny
covered in asphalt
we had seen petroglyph
we had seen where women
offered umbilical cords
this place has mana from
pele, the goddess of fire,
of this cauldron
I hid my face behind
the viewfinder of a nikon
people warned of splattering
i inched in backwards
i felt fingers on the backs:
my thighs, small of back
whirled around for the shot
a single shutter release
and then back
two pretty girls from the UK
stood a few feet away and I
became more daring for them
i was with my lover but two girls
from the UK -- i had to do it
to slip up the older man with them
the sun wavered then set
the red lava broke free
repeatedly and each time
elated gasp and then children
took rocks and stones and hurled
them into the fissures.
thunk and then nothing the
lava was not even close to
liquidity. Viscous Viscous Viscous
and then the fissure broke and fingers
flitters through bright neon red like
the sign for live nudes on bourbon
a little honey all that black
velvet and red neon, but
of itself: flamboyant extreme.
the hard crusty french bread
pahoe'hoe lava beneath our
feet hot like from an oven
a warning sign: the dangers of
sulphur -- the dangers of sudden
fissure, of death of maiming --
warnings to pregnant mothers
two british nannies i showed
off for and my girl and hot lava.
lava surfing consists of parking a car
walking 200 meters with a flashlight,
looking for a while as sluggish
viscous
viscous
viscous
hot hot hot hot lava lava lava
pahoe'hoe, a'a, pahoe'hoe, a'a
crunch brittle shell
and then its over and you can't find the
British nannies but you have your lover and
you share a torch (for each other)
get into the car and
drive off and then lie
as to how difficult it has been.
You left me for the beach and I watched you
cross against the growling traffic.
A brazen strut tousled your hair,
until I only knew you by the yellows
and blues of the blanket
That whipped against your shoulder.
I huddled in the Tradewinds, pressing down
flyaway texts, jotting elusive words meaning
to want to need in bleeding rollerball scrawl
upon a graph paper tablet.
I thought of wants and needs and glistening
PABA torsos and legs gritty with sand.
You left me for the beach and I watched you
cross against the growling traffic.
A brazen strut tousled your hair,
until I only knew you by the yellows
and blues of the blanket
That whipped against your shoulder.
I huddled in the Tradewinds, pressing down
flyaway texts, jotting elusive words meaning
to want to need in bleeding rollerball scrawl
upon a graph paper tablet.
I thought of wants and needs and glistening
PABA torsos and legs gritty with sand.