Take my face
into your hands
and tell me
that you love me
Though a reason
for each grain of sand
exists for you to spurn me

The anxious face
sketches like a mothman
with two fiery red eyes
amidst a flurry of large violent lines of black ink
that look more like the claw marks
of an animal
desperate for escape

From 3 o’clock till
half past 4
is when the monster
is at your door
If you are careless
And let him in
that’s when the nightmare
will begin
He’ll shave your head
to leave it bare
and he will be back
to enter there
Then you will know
there’s no such thing
as a harmless dream

Imagine lying
in a lush green field
cradled within an ancient glen
Timeless is
the still life portrait
of what the gods
were like back then

Men who really don’t want peace
want only a respite from war
Adrift on high seas
and without the disease
are those who won’t come ashore

On the inside
of the window pane
I hear the tapping
of a summer rain
It cools the fire
of the noonday sun
And all is still
until it’s done

Ah, to feel the stir of passion
And then be burned by it
Better than enduring
the slow suffocation of apathy