1.
Bailer’s song, to knock with a clink against the pool,
the bark by candlelight, the bailer,
shower of glowing drops.
The taste of iron tells down through the streams
in strands, a breath on the streams,
and bubbles blow in
to the mouth of the sweating bailer.
Taking in water, and sweating it out.
Boating to a still pool,
a knothole in the choppy stream.
And so by moonlight,
the busking bailer sings the pail,
and sleeps, the stream he works in
works to be a whorly board
banged through with nails.
2.
“I’m chirping,
and chucking out my stream of song,
unburdening the source
that’ll stop if untended.
And I bail out song,
rid myself of it,
I sing my own trouble
and turbulence.”
-2003
