~
Where there used to be trees,
but is now a causeway
under the Lord's nose,
reside a constant tourist and his wife
who have all they ever wanted,
light and lure.

They swim in a pool
on the dangling homestar,
overlooking metal decay,
she pinches his cheek,
he smacks her bottom,
summer in Gotham
is now upon them,
gifting different things:
he sees mystery lights endeavor,
she sees herself a dragonfly
on the lure.

Monday thru Friday
they like to ride
the elevator of their love,
up and down it goes along a focal point,
out of him and into her,
when the door closes
they come together,
when the door opens
it lets in the tide of loneliness
and they begin to push buttons.

They dislike home
and its constant secrets,
what she wears is for him,
but less is more,
he invades her often,
but she's become a empty field,
theirs is Neptune's bedroom,
if they don't find
a reason to make love,
they will stay up all night
until irritable frozen creatures.

Invictus interruptus,
with the luck of the draw
they play dangerous days:
a game of blindfolds
and snowmobiles,
a game of hammers
and nails.

The plane of their lust
hunts the morning light
on gloomy Sunday,
the rain wets their hair,
the sidewalk creates a song:
electric skylark,
they dance out of focus,
he grasps her hips,
she makes a beautiful sound,
caught by magic,
trapped by photographic memory
and numbered doors.

Light and lure.
All anomalies.

Sublimation will not return
until the day of the focal point,
in the city where they have
all they ever wanted,
yet here they have nothing
more than microcosm,
the rest is distraction.

Maybe they should
remain a constant.

Maybe he should
just hold her.

Maybe she should
just let herself be held.
~

A prickly and inflamed small creature slinks out of the sludge to see the world.
A broken body and broken mind spread out at rest, dark tendrils unfurled.

The shimmering lifts and causes light to leak into the soul.
A music box sounds off- filling space and time, achieving its goal.

Surrounded, still and silent.
At once tested, rested, then gone.
Impulses dark and violent.
Later scattered, tattered and drawn.

Brought to tears by nothing when everything is wrong.
Creaky, creaky, creature creeps.
I see it,
Then it’s gone.

Into fog, and in a fugue,
We flee from the fire,
Or watch from a distance
As the flames grow higher.
Our sight is short.
Our wants are many.
But if we don’t compromise,
We won’t have any.

When we feel what it is
To truly need
Perhaps we’ll find the strength
To stave off greed.
Our priorities are muddled.
Our fears feed our fight.
We become befuddled,
And forget what’s right.

We’re damaged, victimized,
And we can’t look away.
We welcome comforting lies,
And what famous faces say.
And we can’t understand
Why they don’t see what we see,
As the others hold hands
And dance
On the grave of democracy.

a dog pees on a tree,
so what, that’s average.

a baby has spaghetti
around its mouth,
pfft, that’s basic.

a woman living below you
beats on the ceiling with
a broomstick and tells
you to “keep it down!”
big deal, that’s common.

pulling your member
out of your pants and
stroking it violently
with excitement,

hey, that’s just everyday living.

but, seeing you sitting there
on that park bench,
one leg crossed over the other,
with your dog
and your book
and your sunglasses
while tears of joy stream
down your face
after something you
just read

well now…

you
don’t
see
that
everyday.

hell, I thought, and pain
and death and ****
all around me.

hell with no escape,
pain without relief,
death amongst the living
and **** compiled
in the mirror
in front of me.

what I needed was
an act of decadence
to break the staleness,
something spontaneous.

so, I took back my last
swallow full of whiskey,
slicked back my hair and
grabbed the first woman
I saw by the hips.

I pulled her closely to me,
and then kissed her
very passionately.

she pushed me away
almost instantly and
as I turned around,
she hit me in the back
with her purse where
I heard threats of violence
come slithering through the air
from her boyfriend’s tongue.

I bade them all adieu
and walked out the door.

I was an imp without a care
knowing that I have lived
up to the very thing
I want etched on my grave:
regret nothing.

E - Elves never showing themselves.
T - Touch, A desire wanted much.
H - Haze, make focus, hard to phase.
E -  Energy waves, colors daze.
R - Reality, seems an impossibility.
E - Everything real, or just an idea.
A - Almost place, the unknown space.
L - Lost it seems, remembered dreams.

Let me queue,
    you, into a great,
       decorating style.
A bedroom, where,
  your eyes, close
     and reopen, to
         a smile.

I pray,
   to find a way.
To express,
    with success.
What I need,
     to say.