In every leaf that
Falls, agony lies hidden;
We dont hear, we watch.

~
Holding court at the Zanzibar,
they looked on good nights
like Egyptian Queens, like Ancient Babylonians.

On not so good nights,
they resembled Brassaï's Moma Bijou -
"fugitives from Baudelaire's bad dreams",
and even then they looked magnificent.

Identity wasn't something you nailed
yourself into in late adolescence.
It was a trick of the light,
and if you were to avoid
burning yourself out,
then you simply let the flames
lick over you
and turned the ashes into kohl.
~

On the cheeks of fog
Our shattered dreams visualise;
The sun restores them.

The mouse gnaws at bones
At the pace of day and night;
After that it squeals.

On her golden hair
A snow butterfly slides down;
My fingers stops it.

In arms of the clouds
The moon sleeps with eyes open;
Some glowworms twinkle.

-

the Clause read–

"by signing, you agree to have
your imagery and collected works
manifested into any digital scenario

chosen by the staff, associates and
management of this organization
throughout perpetuity"

So,

does this mean Bob Dylan and
George Lucas might appear
side-by-side on TV some
Christmas Eve

as dying trees ornamented with
numerical fruits which dangle
from their frames like the

links of Marley's chains ?

given his extensive background
on the subject, Santa knows full
well this will eventually happen...


s jones
2021


.

My eagle


Soared

But

Came down the ground

At sunset