to have a human stir, letting awake
flood in, putting unasked long blonde
tresses leavings on your shoulder,
resting head upon the empty crevice
where your shoulder and arm dip,
requiring
filling,

to have a child read you to sleep, a partnership, and awake hours later
his hand cusping your chin, and that
sensation makes an old man go
knee weak
even forty five years
later

despite that the woman left you, claiming
a lack of fufillment?

and that child now a forty five year old man,
has excised you from his life, and doesn’t plan or attending a future funeral,

it is still your **best privilege

long after these thousand days of
passing years, the eyes will feel a
sparking, I will remember you,
my dear old friends, reviewing
the where, the when, which will
flush, outing the whys
from my
memories

more than the poetic liturgy composed,
but what felled me to my knees,
yearning,
for the soup of love and passion,
pain+no gain, euphorias rising at the
trenching lows of depths
newly explored, hope returning after a
long time abandonment, the
excruciating ecstasy
of creating, the killing tedium of
months of no inspiration but the
glint of a possible tomorrow

but you knot all this,
so come to tell you,
long after the poem
encased in yellowing
emerald unwrapping
aging megabytes, more
than any old poem itself,
I wil remember what you
wrote in return, with insight
all we are, we are an interaction
a petrified yet living petri dish of
creatures re/anew,
r e n e w e d, and I am
young again

and the tears of yore no more,
fresh flowering droplets of
a longer than believable age,
factuals of the sweet,
you will move once
more, remaking me
your lover devotee

       and I wil stumble;
       the woman enquirer
       am I ok, whimsy
       respond never,
       never ever better
       my darling

and I lift a tissue
to erase the evidence
of my happy melancholic
existence, and start another
conversation with you, but no!

one of us long gone, name
erased, poems left behind,
orphaned children, them
and me left alone while
I will be remembered,
by remembering you,
our second of union

as it
reverberates, our amour
reunion is a wetting,
giving forth a burst,
a fluid sac,
again

like a sonorous bird on a wire, his lyrics delivered with/in, a gravelly impish grinning wink, with a high voltage  current currency that makes you cry, why did I not write that, godfamn it, which rhymes doncha ya know

so pickup your electronics, grumpy and
cursing, compelled to start versing, bested by
the best, reminder to self you are an also ran, you be back of the pack, and the love out there, freely given to the artists we aspire to be makes me,

an ***-piring foolish man, who kicks up
beach sand into his owned eyes, them two
regular betrayers… and that’s a rap and a
wrap of another baddie po~em