The heat of day unloads a ton and the air is still as bleached granite.
thistles bristle in discreet steam. thinning and menacing the iron blue sky.
I choose the lemon sun with the ice heart thrumming
at the center of all worlds. and cool my jets.
i submit to the hidden mercy, and succumb to the river of riddles. emboldened.
golden in the old way. but shipwrecked regardless.
i have a maze
that's all
mouse.

I love the night...although its so silent my ears hurt
and there's nothing to be done about it. and i still get mail.
it's just empty and brittle. envelopes of undisclosed, declaring -
" I live Somewhere that mail Arrives..."
and I don't count on anyone
because everyone, is the Other night.

every one.

the night.

i open the wound to see the reason i would want to see that.
and keep eating my ham and cheese. woolgathering in the hemisphere of my own paleolithic emotional diet.
i brought the nuts.

one more love in me... mostly ghost pomp
and lavender nocturnes.
my hands cannot grasp -
the very thing I would have first.
but in this Life,
I am asking for your hand.

immersed

September has no pet dander like the midday sun.
it burrows into heaven's closet of Blue... and no one -
suspects the gremlin of Time, of feeding the stray
Reality. On the down low.
It's always-
" How You Like Meow ? "
or nothing at all.
and September

And now the moon has fallen softly
from the lips of the velveteen void, to arrest
in the dimple of darkness, disarmed and radiant
as plasma and white cheese
on a black eye.

just above a frozen toadstool, hovering in the crisp of winter night
bejeweled in all the splendor of snowflake and starlight -
a wee lass with glass wings and a tiara of mischievous stalagmites
aglow in the Glamour of Her introspection's vanity
She shimmers 'neath the Moon
and disregards
your gazing.

in majesty.

It’s easy to break
a loving heart,

perfect love
in ruins and scars,

he walked away
from her loving arms.

It’s easy to break
a loving heart,

perfect melancholy
of honeyed cries,

she’s a victim
of a troubled mind.

It’s easy to break
a loving heart,

perfect smiles
lost in wilderness,

once broken
it can’t be replaced.

Maybe the spaces
between our fingers
doesn't fit perfectly
anymore,
Maybe it's better
to hear lies
than the truth.

Maybe our hearts
are now out of sync,
Maybe the love
we tried to mend
only caused us pain.

Maybe memories
are better be buried,
Maybe it's better
to forget
the future we built.

Maybe your lips
are tired being stuck
on mine,
Maybe your arms
just want to hold
someone else’s spine.

Maybe a 'goodbye'
is just a different
kind of saying 'hello',
Maybe it's time
for us
to let go.

As your secrets bleach in the canopy of dawn
and all the marching hares are strung up
by toad stools
and the band plays dust and maple,
on the moon.

Your very own Virginia -
is now the hallmark of
your revery.
a distinct shade
of rapture...
You have your 4 quarts
of Sunshine
and a barrel of ash
and whimsy.
But we have our
separate stars
to conquer for no
Reason.

Let me say this... I awoke this morning in the middle of a House Call.
The good doctor had bled on the porch where my begonias
were dreaming... but i sutured his open hand
and suffered the telling of his tale.

I was almost asleep, but then the air cracked like a whip
in a hurricane of dead calm. I was startled from my rest
by a hoard of indigo and rampant lovely things.
i chose not to believe in anything else.
and i come back to you

a moment at a time.

in my lost eye, the whole of the world is a gone thing.
a long away orchard of unspeakable goblins
and soft suns.

it would not be so terrible to love forever someone.
but it would be inevitable
and every task under Heaven would falter
should the rainbow catch a glimpse
of the obvious.

i am saying
something now.
and you
know it.

the way the blueberry numb skull,
sung from a day's gravy-
and the whole of the Sea
was a flat Earth.
but nothing led to nowhere
till you didn't mean it.
the way the warp
is the way
and the void,
the ceiling.