Murky heaven shoots—
Fishes swamped in long lost reeds,
  .  .  .  Great blue heron waits.

Are you having any fun
what are you getting out of living
even the old grey man is having fun son
life is full of if's and but's
so have a little fun
before you get really old
and become
much to old to care about
having a little fun.

I was with the ocean last night and your body
Was its vessel, overflowing.  Words were frail,
Drops indwelling about the shapeless sky,
Water reaching for its own height and breath,
Like touch, were as desperate letters exchanged,
Endlessly read, until like loamy vellums, they
Disappeared in our hands.  Inklings of tide-
Pool and driftwood.

                               My blood was a river that ran
Its course.  Members feeding your deltas and birds
Breeding where the water-russet sheds on pampas
And inverness.  Eyes like wing through ever—
Green, empties the fossil shell.  Fire, brimming
Mountaintops that were, for countless millennia,
Sleeping.  Did I mention that the earth moved?
No?  Her displacement was involuntary.

Then came the waterfalls, lifting throughout
Time.  The scent, searching for its identity,
The wave, calling to its own name— Ocean,
O— cean.  And flowers, opening like galaxies
In the after-light.  A universe of face and hand
With hunger for salt-rain and then the cloud
Burst-blue and spilt and spun more redolent,
Deities, in joyous creation.

I breathe, in your ocean, like a child unborn.

Woodpecker returns—
Gold bark falls at base of tree,
  .  .  .  Bright seasonal gifts.

Ibycus Rachelae to my Armoured Vest
Inject onto me that addicting Spritz
Hoping, which my Muse from the Plym comes best
Return my Calls despite everyday Blitz
How Secret, should be that whirly-curled Tail
Twice length your Form cuddle your Evening's Wrap
And when she comes, promote your Heart's avail
Respond to your Tube; And lick-out the Sap
Green, red-banded, was it enough to lure
And bind essential fluids to your waste
Your slime's head recall; Sate potency pure
And bid her offspring from your pride at haste.
Listen, shy snail. Expose your Calciumed House
For her to Respect your True Feelings' douse.

Most have my Bearing Hands present in Faith
And always are Heated Dogs tamed and true
Yet if these Swords stab; Score checkers on my face
And see such Love just evolve into you
Heater begets my name; Stock's Rage embed
Past seven dials enough for me to snap
Blame the Drum in me; The Beater pumps dead
Forlorn this Campaign and take a long nap
Whilst such I dream; And Dreams dispel more gum
Long before the Scribe must compile your Creed
With such I chew; And proppled me to mum
Know her silent ****** longs for your need.
My Bearing Hands fail; And fail for a Lie
Pronounced my in-birth; And flickered my eye.

Mum or Mom, whichever Title you wear
Clip this Gold Pin and wear it on your Dress
With them - and Daughter - such Healthy Pride bear
These Fortunes accord; And Grace you impress
I mean this oft; Though my ID's betrayed
Consort this Red Skull despite tamed intent
Yet base-lined reprieve of these Thoughts relayed
If Hearts and Souls live in perfect content
My only word - Truth - that these Two connect
For helpless am I stung to Daughter's Fair
In her own Best - fly Forms at dive and beck;
Her Prince - down below - sport Pillars in her care.
Watch that Board. That One asking you to Sing
That Torch heating her Stars; And made her King.