Boiled down to a puddle of liquids
there's not much to say
except bring your wellingtons

Hope someone has the generosity to dance on my grave

it was for me a glum and dark world
until I discovered the perfect antidote
deep raucous laughter from the heart
the creases on my face disappeared
and I was soft and smooth like a baby
when they took me off the mad island
I could laugh a fine sophisticated laugh
or do a coarse sarcastic cackle that jarred
against the aesthetic ring of affluence
so richly abundant in those emulating glee
they didn't know that i had stumbled upon
laughter when I needed something to do
In a world defined by magnificent loitering

the sound of his incantations
hung like a fertile cloud in the air
till it became locked in an embrace
with the holy smell of incense bare
and all the while he droned on steadily
like a distant engine upon an incline
the birds of the night spun around him
crazy like a moth willing death to come
the hot wax stuck like glue on his fingernails
as the passion heated up and blew a blast
in the direction of mirthless unseen onlookers
witnesses to a macabre rite in the dead of night
the time for forging ties that bind was well nigh
for what better instrument to weld togetherness
than a grim kind of secrecy in the  dead wilderness

if I said I like the pheromones emanating from your lips
its me trying to be geeky poet
after a geeky kiss

Clover honey sunshine o'er Sassafras rivers
Proud Martins sing for notoriety , full bloom-
white sugar , shivers in the afternoon pasture
Our last Raven of the hard day season
Roaster , stained glass color kinda holidays -
liquid Kildare clover valleys , euphoric July nightshades