The sun rises,
The mind sets.
The laughter fades,
The tears stop,
The yelling calms,
The stress evaporates
And here, lies a blank, soulless, slate.

It's hard not to stare when eyes command such glory,
and hands expose such a pleasing picture,
and hips sing such a festive song.

There's a sweet amour
for a smile that transcends any star.
For a soft wrinkle that deeds divine interest,
and the scar that rewards the conquer of turbulence.

How strong and worthy you are
and blissful and replete.
You are perfect,
You've earned everything.

Spin the world right round,
right round,
and please, teach me how to dance.
You made this path, so lead the way.

I will stare, and I will follow, and I will smile.
I will need you, but I will not love you.

He sits in his rocking chair
Moon on his lap
He asks his wife for some more ice
In his eyeball-glass
She looks out the kitchen window
Eyes fixed on Antares-
The fish hook of the sky
Mars’ rival in its palace
She wonders why, if hunter’s dead,
She still feels strong desire
“**** yourself before it kills you”
Whispers the star of fire
The son sits Indian style
Upon his race-car bed
He prays to Pluto and the sun
And ponders in his head,
“Am I proud to be an earthling?”
“Could my skin transform to fur?”
Then he closed his eyes
And realized
It’s not as they are
But as they were

Leaves are martyrs
for a ruthless autumn