Dim light on tall trees
and slow movement of air
like breath softly exhaled
you next to me
in buttoned shirt and warm pants
afluff, still, and steaming warmly
like horses in winter
the slow tick tick tick
of life's clock on death's mantle
and it's always later
later
later
than you think

cringing shadow figures roll darkling ***** of rubber
in circles around me while i sit

perfectly

still

at my table, waiting
and hoping they won't notice me
especially the big one
in the purple vest
i saw his teeth in a yellow flash
when he snapped out at one of the others
a few minutes ago; they
fell in line again, resumed
the roll roll roll of *****
'round and 'round my table but
faster now

i don't know
how they got in
but i'll make a note to ask
when someone comes along

a mannequin with wings
flew past my window
gliding softly
like a great
     soaring
          bird
and i stopped, listening
hoping
it would make another pass
so i could be sure i was not
after all
alone

the wretched fin of despair
finally broke through the floorboards
circled around the sofa
and the table upon which
we supped
muffled laughter wafting
up from somewhere below
a thud
here and there
in between rips and tugs
and labored gasps
razor sharp leading edge
chewing slicing sawing
through the kitchen and down
the slate black steps
to the front door
and out

People are like eggs
some get eaten

some break open, revealing
a beautiful, rich, and delicate
center

some lie in the nest
far too long
eventually taking up a dim
green
hue
and rotting slowly
from the inside

and some, against all odds
are held just right, warm
for the correct length of time
and hatch
into vibrating ***** of fuzz
that venture forth
into the cold
waiting
world

Now this galley's bound
for foreign ground
the sea's aswell with gold
so we'll ply our trade in ****** raid
and may the lanyards hold

And it's row men row
or the crack o' the whip will show

Now the pirate's life is full of strife
her belly's never full
so she's always quick
with knife or stick
to split a rich man's skull

And it's row men row
or the crack o' the whip will show

So the Roger flies for spying eyes
to let their weak hearts know
that Blackheart sails
among the whales
and her gold lies safe below

And it's row men row
or the crack o' the whip will show

coming to see you
i'll wear rat skins
stapled carefully
to my buttocks
nothing else
just fine pelts of waxy blue
rustling
as i walk