“So soon must I go my love?”
Said I with bold Shakespearean jest
A giggle escaped
From her rosy lips, let suddenly out from her mind’s possessions
With goofy smile and posh accent,
She replied in kind to my intent
“Of course good sire! You will now take your leave”

A flood of mirth and good faith, a shower of genuine joy
Blossomed with liveliness betwixt our figures
Oriented sideways, laying on low-cropped carpet
Our laughing drifted freely in good humorous air
Dying slowly into breaths and smiles, her bountiful hair
Glowed softly in that room
Softening my jagged soul, fixing it with tempered gaze

Though Heaven’s eye and lovely Earth
Quarreled on that day, separated by grey droplets of clumpèd air
In low light, I still retained a clear vision of my love laid before me
In Venusian position, a blush from our previous merriment
Still traveled up her throat and up her cheek
Marking her lovely countenance proudly with color because of me

Those moments are now dead and gone
The ungrateful witch has left me to hang
Solely by my neck
In a noose of my own sorrow, growing tighter and tighter until one day I will break
And I will die and I will suffocate
Under the weight of my body and my baggage
This love was not real! Only a lust dressed up in *****'s clothes that shrivels up in the light

Bah! Who cares about wenches these days? The wretches
Merely prowl about the countryside, searching for untested men
Nay, boys
To draw water from, tying them down and breaching their chests
Reaching in and stealing their best
Traits and memories and garments and vex them
Out of their minds and out of their hearts
Out of their homes and out of their children’s arms!

Nay, I say! What, **! Dare you contravene my verity?
That my heart was broken? That much is truth
That I was told, “You are not good enough.”

the mountains keep laughing,
and mocking me from afar.
they keep mocking the useless
attempts i make
to feel like i’m worth
to feel like i really am enough.

they keep pointing at me
telling me i’ll never be
like my little brothers’
violin;
or that i won’t ever be
as clever
as bright
as wit
as my big brother is.

they keep reminding me that
i won’t ever be
as sufficient
as i want to be.

“residents only”
you opened a gate to
an apartment complex
one bottle of soju
you and me
i drank most of it though
the sky is getting darker
i need to leave
but i stay a bit longer
bottle almost empty
you said i was cute
you were smiling at me
the sight of my drunk ***
singing and dancing
im sweetly spinning around

the wind carried us through the night
we rode along it laughing and dancing
and then at the inn
we touched each other till we sighed
bliss under the moonlight

I’m just trying to eat my french toast and drink my coffee but you keep cutting me off as I’m about to take a sip take a bite asking why I like it with sugar i add a spoonful of creamer and you’re laughing
but not in a loving way
talking about my schoolwork and my plans for the garden
and you skip over the congratulations and mention your ex girlfriend
going on about your ex girlfriend and my face has hardened
i drink my coffee and try not to listen
i eat my french toast and i don’t pay attention
i’m looking at the man with the book eating alone
i’m looking at the waitress wishing she were home
excuse me and i’m up
the bathroom is empty and nobody saw me
the mirror is clean and i am *****
the lights are brighter than i want them to be
and the soap dispenser is empty

“leave ‘em laughing when you go”^




it appears that Ogden Poet and Joni Songster
have ganged up
on poor Pitch Black
to remind
that he who laughs best,
is he who laugh hardest
at himself,
and their vanity fair

the bathroom mirror chips in
with a
chiding chortle,
spasming him so hard,
mirror cracks!
right about where
the smiling mouth
and laughing rolling tears intersect,
under the nose,
landing in an open braying mouth

“Laughter is the corrective force which
prevents us from becoming cranks”

just a most excellent reminder that
gods come and go,
taste in deities is
just another fashion item