A bored old codger from the East
One day ate a barrel of yeast
He began to perspire
The prelude to expire
But he rose quite well, at least!

Each time you turn and walk away
I find myself searching
for the sunny days
I know
once ran through my veins.  
Until I wish
I could dip my fingers
into the places
where your teeth bit into my heart
once again.

I think of all those conversations
where I believed
that every shadow
lying on the floor
made our lives exciting.  
Like an ocean of wine
one drinks within a dream
full of memories,
capturing all
we have been fighting.

Reality seems to lie inside
everything I forget
about loving you
when it blends inside my heart
then hides.
And I can't tell
what is black or white
each time you walk away
and leave me feeling
only........
gray inside.

The dedication
was ingrained
in his fingertips,
(like Bowie,
like Bob), yet
there was no
boldness,
no brilliance
in the decay,
(like David,
like Dylan,
lord willin').

And so
I asked him:

Shall I
dare

to play
Baudelaire
over six flights
of stairs?

No?

Is it really worth
that much to you?
Is it worth anything at all?
Is just getting away always good enough?

And then I said to him,

kid,
sometimes
you gotta bury
'em.
And this is coming
from me with my chest
resting on the ground.

Snicker snicker, giggle giggle,
it's funny,
the way your pen wiggles.

You said you'd come to tea
so I made a cake
chocolate sweet; maraschino filled;
girdled with a satin blue ribbon;
set out the prettiest plates;
hand painted with forget-me-nots.
And from the darkest corner of a drawer
found a single candle to celebrate the day.
I'd understand if you had 'phoned,
but now the chocolate lends a bitter taste
and even the despairing posies have given up all hope
as the candle's flame flickers my ever waiting shadow.

Left
in the lurch

Time
       flies
Bye
Free for
the taking
But
Words fail
of their own account
To redeem
   Themselves
       In the
Wake
Of their
binding reality