If i had a bottle of magical reagent
I'd take out a third of it
and put it in the sky
and turn the sky as blue
as it should be
if i had a bottle of magical reagent
I would take out a third
and put it in the lake
let the lake return
to its rightful clarity
If I had a bottle of magical reagent
I would take out one-third
and put it in my heart
let my heart be restored
to its original innocence
if there's such a bottle of reagent
I'd think to myself
i would sit
under the azure welkin
watching fluffy clouds
smooth flowing waters
I'd feel as light as the breeze
and my heart as wild
as a bee.

What the hey!what the **!!
Take it a little slow,
a pinch at a time,
else it'll blow.

Eye on the glass!
Not on that lass!!
Careful if you want to
make it to next class!!

Keep it away from your face.
The reagent's in that case.
Ok,now tell me
What happened to all the base?!

A little less,a little less,
That's called H2S,
Don't drop it!
Oh,God bless!!

Out!out!Get out!!
Now there's no doubt.
I'm going to retire
and go catch some trout.

head to toe kissing


I   the mundane

moonlight madnesses, a possessive noun,
commissions gravitational pulls that disobey and obey
laws of interstellar loving. The antique modalities once and forever, forever laying still, stilled in places of antiquities and historical need, are thundershower and hail rudely reawakened, the undertow of
pull and push, the yanking hands  of need for others, for others,
it’s the explosive-knowledge, the opening of the old kitbag of perpetual principles, that crazy head to toe kissing is no less necessary, more so, than the computation of the total breaths mundane, unnoticed even now as I write of them, that we will count from that very first, in deed, they are one and the same, like the same
kisses given from head to toe

II   the profane

at the first, the body insists, I am but a long haul trailer, no taxi me,
cargo and passengers, are my quatrain accompaniments,
traveling companions boon, my own toons, too soon disembarked,
songs of parents and lovers, children and others, your visage passed
without your permission, but with your happy encouragement,
to generations that will see things that futurists dare not
even mention, but the profane urge to warn them all, kisses from head to toe, elevates, and overcomes...so when most of my names dusted with forgetfulness, lost in the waves, my scorching soft lips will be recalled just as an airy flight of light brushing upon a newborn’s eyelids just at the moment of birth.  A rustling more felt than heard, the ****** and bruised carrying body will sensate and instantly forget, but nonetheless transmit genetically, that the profane of birth and life renewing can be only washed away, when past and future, recalled and recreated, kisses from head to toes, dripping with softening saltwater tears, a chemical organic reagent of creation,
inside the histories of head to toe kissing

III  the insane

so when, somewhere, some place, a man’s body prepares  
tous ses adieux, his memory foolishly sane and strong,
his wasted paper bag container ship, rust bucketed,
crinkled and wrinkled, skin folding in on itself, hanging to bones
by stretched sinews and tendons that no longer tend to business,
loosened and gangly, they hang on barely to the bare nakedness of
evolutionary processes, mostly not, offset, by the tenderizing effects of kisses, from invisible attendees,  unconscious they,
willingly and unwillingly, offering farewells in actuality...
head to toes, noses to belly buttons, tatted, tattered, and still tasted by dying cells.  It’s insane to think it’s even possible  one retains each and all, but he does, those few given, those few  millions he gave away for cheap belly laughs and poems, decade upon decade accumulated are the totality of him, all of them free and sealed in kisses from head to toes

don’t kiss and tell,

meaning
do kiss, go crazy, let passion rule, give in, take out,
meaning

kiss but don’t tell

yet,
the real telling is in the kissing
where your heart gives way,
avalanches into frenzied chain of signal fires,
smoked, clouded eyes, with only one exception made;

the shining, sheer veil see-through when
the other is on the room and the  green spring coverlet felled,
all to see the glow, see all the the blush,
the pretense, aversion skins natural makeup, a liberty beacon

laughing, how it cannot be hid for what’s inside
climbs so fast, blushes blue blood redder, the inside reaction reagent,
the weakening composure, the intense beating from heart to head,
the joyous tearing, the silent swearing, the stupid grinning,
the step skipping, the happy dance springing  spontaneous,
no control, might as well just let it go biology in chemistry class

all these tells that you have kissed beyond reason,
these hidden kisses might as well be on
billboards on the highway into town,
a P.A. announcement in high school,
a hearty button attached to your backpack,
the incessant text checking, all dogs nighttime barking all day

go ahead kiss and tell
go ahead tell and kiss harder,
in the kisses, a million tellings
every body part red swelling,
the tearing of every body part,
concentric circles extended from a pebbled heart

~

On campus--at the very top of the new
eagle pole--a raven struts, one fleck of blood
stuck to his beak from morning carrion, bright
black eyes the same primeval color
as those on the pole.  This ode to nature,
this prayer, this harmony of adzeman’s skill,

tradition, inspiration, and sacred task—I’ll
admire it later—was carved by folks who knew
from childhood each crest and its nature.
Mostly from the clan, and of course blood
relatives, they memorized each color
of each crest, how to mix together bright

pigments from this root, that bulb--right
amounts of everything, reagent to skill
to alchemy--required to make each color
sing.  The importance of ritual to renew.
Significance of Nature, consequence of blood.
Black iron raven in landscaped nature

patch consults his brother.   “Our nature
is belligerent, our destiny to chase bright,
shiny objects and live off the blood-
sticky leavings of another’s ****.
Don’t you think we should blaze a new
path for ourselves?”  Replies the other,  “The color

of your coat is lighter than the color
of your mood today.”All around them Nature
labors.  “Brother, we don’t need a new
direction.  Our future, as always, is bright.
We’re the keepers of knowledge.  Our skill
at irony keeps us relevant. As long as blood

is red They will need us.” He ***** on the blood
red head of the top crest.  A streak the color
of snow bounces down the faces.  “If you ask, I’ll
reply,” he cackles, which makes Nature
grin.  A fuzzy red vole begins to climb right
up the front of the pole, as I realize how new

it is, how fresh the pine.  When I think of the blood
shed by men for money I am struck dumb.  Right here--the only color
green you ever need--Nature.  I’d as soon carve as ****.

11/3/10

Wishes, I never said...?
Rolling tongues, admit appearances
Are deceiving, but purpose to lead...
Has an ear for a rainbow's chances

Rainbows lead to pouting voices...
Facing the stare, I make a quiet
Collective memory served; has choices...
The reagent of a house of colors, so bright

Star's that starve?
As the moment indicates...
Your rhyme for the silent, is another's liar...
Privilege behind a scare, finishes the irate

Races of fate, found in a valued youth...
Respite is to be, an awkward challenge
Of a time, that accuses you for couth...
Curses of final fear, are often to nearer mention

The fright in the rain
Told to sit, by a silver voice...
Sigh's and minding, the candor of pain
Will such a song, begin here with loyalty?

Does and doesn't...
Shame wear a passion's decision?
Deciding upon, a notorious lesson won't
Is a handful of salt, the only shared intuition?

Liberty, at all costs...
And a hill named only rage
That worth's the world, with hosts
Sent to a wish, I made...

Time be a liar's friend...
One step more
Like love and hates marvel, to lend...
The story of reach, is who's war?

It’s Saturday morning at about 9am. I’m in the chemistry lab, a sterile looking room with 12 workstations that are like multi level kitchen islands with sinks and various lab gear. It’s the most fluorescently lit environment on earth and everything looks to be either white, stainless steel or glass.

I’m one of the two students in the lab this morning, so I’ve taken two stations at the far end of the room and I’m performing two experiments at once, I mean, why not get ahead?

Before I start a lab, I do a ‘cutsheet,’ It’s something I learned from my sister, Annick. The cutsheet lists every piece of equipment I’ll use (like a magnetic stirrer), every step I’ll perform (control the atmosphere), every safety measure I need to take (fume hoods), every chemical I will use (for instance alkyl halide in 0.1 concentration) and what my results should be. This is all more-or-less textbook - but I still hand-write it out myself.

It’s a quiet environment, I have my AirPods in and I’m listening to cello music - it’s relaxing. I’m performing two variations of nucleophilic substitution reactions - creating new carbon-carbon bonds. It’s Pretty standard stuff and I’m at the stage, in both experiments, where I combine reagents. When suddenly, a TA (teaching assistant) is stooping over my hunched, left shoulder.
“What do you have there?” He asked - let’s call him Lewis. I flinched. Ok, I jumped.

Lewis’ breaking the silence was sudden and intrusive. I hadn’t noticed him prowling about and for a moment I was flummoxed. I tapped my AirPods to stop the music.

This was irritating. See, anything I would say to him would sound like a child talking to an adult. He’s a doctoral student and to him what I’m doing is stupidly simple, like stacking blocks, but he’s put me in that position.

“I’m doing both variations of (problem set/homework) problem 5,” I motioned to the other station, “and I’m ready to introduce the Grignard reagent,” I couldn’t help a note of cringy defiance creeping into my tone, like a child expecting to be reprimanded.

“Are you..,” he started to say, I’m sure he didn’t mean for it to sound like an interrogation.
But I read his mind, adding, “I’m using anhydrous conditions and an ethereal solvent,” this time I said it like it should be obvious—and again I sounded childish and brittle (like an ignoramus)—to myself anyway—but I was at a loss. ‘God, I really need to be less defensive,’ I thought, mortified. I hate looking dumb.

He nodded his head, he’d been looking over my cutsheet. I gave him an upturned, sideways glance. Was he going to stand around observing or worse yet micro-manage me?
“Very good,” he pronounced, tapping my cutsheet lightly with an index finger, “carry on.”

He walked away, off to bother the other student, I hoped. Better him than me. I had work to do. I tapped my music back on, looking at my cutsheet.
Where was I?
.
.
Songs for this:
Havana by Brooklyn Duo
Carnival of the Animals: XIII. The Swan by Yo-Yo Ma & Kathryn Stott

waiting to appear on film
you appeared where i’ve never stood
towards the reflection
reveling for the moment
how so, latent lover?
instant to where i felt pain
where i smile for exposure


                     

                       -for you to claim

Fool, how late did you understand!
As little you just managed!
As all deceptive I mentioned,
And all that is holy failed.

The delight of lying dead load,
Of oppression is not raised.
Having seen a lot of art
Alive from the ashes not rose.

From the stale chaff of grain
You separate, alas, could not.
You confused white with black.,
The folly and vice.

Live. Seek in verses the medicine.
I'm looking for a reagent.
From reagents I build the kingdom.
The kingdom wanders positive.

I'd live in little stables.
I'd eat a little oatmeal.
I would be wild and unnecessary,
But the world is ruled by symbiosis.

Politics in a happier hand
Salt and salacious minds
To work in the evening sun of the land
Tried and true, the irony of vice to distinguish the times

Politics deciding to give at most, a wonder, a try...
Through a peering shadow, we accepted was a rancor
Timid is and if a ruling thought, nowhere but shied...?
The loft to a rolling voice, that has it to serve...

Politics knowing utmost is the whole, dominion
Taken to beauty, and serenity, notes of comprehension
Compassion is an adding wait, of sincerity to come again
With the dole of rendition, edicts of forces we see, reagent

Politics of friends and lovers, with the guidance of decency
Met erudite, the cold versus the heat of problems...
That suggest the kindred of speed, and the reasoned empathy
In our hands for vows, that come and go like angels, whim

Politics of offering a host of charisma
The time of day, and the mustiness of night
Where one decision for the many, is made in heed's behalf, dilemma
We know and care for, like a curiosity was the other half of might

Politics of poise, and a surreal appetite
Privilege before a sunny honor, the future of ought, energy
Long in truth, and chosen for bright minds that saw a sight
Of worth in the worlds grasp, looking one more time for sought anarchy...