a dimple of great sadness yawns wide,
a timid fawn, eyes and ears small pearls

and it exists only in my body, mourning
lethargy. morning becomes lethargy,
a heavy predator. without commander
or command, it commences. flowering
into living sleep, i obey, when it beckons

primordially. the sky’s cerulean fingers
all sag. backwardly, blossoming
into muteness, all color
is fed to the inescapable

darkness. hand-fed inwardly, it is a gaping
thirst in the sea of unquenchable
hunger. i do not love it; it mimics

moonlight. the limpid doe,
a crystalline annihilator,

havocs the flower
to furlough the meadow
into the silence,
and into the black.

Anymore I'm not sitting where you Come to my mind.

I'm as lonely as a station at night.

The december mist and the moon
peaking high over the iron fence
dulled the low volt into weird halo.

But like bats I reap the rewards of night.

The buzz of the crickets rose in crescendo
from the undergrowths around the track
sounding as unreal as the silent platform
abruptly cropping up on nowhere land
doubtful if ever a train would notice it.

Days are dull actings dancing to strings
yielding nothing to let you know you.
I'm in full vision before the lightless mirror
opening up alone but with the many faces
the dreary day ruthlessly hid from me.

The mist was engulfing the iron railings
and when a distant engine whistled
there was no track or platform
but only the lone flyer hung on the moon
like a bat glued to the scent of night.

There is no hope for the hopeless
Nor help for the helpless.
All is blackness and despair.
All prayers are unanswered,
All dreams are faded into mist.
The carousel comes to a stop
And all the horses trot away
To where the music isn’t crows
Rasping in the nearby trees.
The sun is unforgiving.
There is no hope of rain
Or anything replenishing.
There is no reward for winning.
Effort draws a penalty.
Saving up means losing all
And the road is barricaded.
How many ways are every which
And how many turns required
To grow dizzy enough to fall
And know there’ll be no picking up.
The universe has only endings.
All new beginnings are in vain.
Only pain and endless darkness:
The new reward for a race well run.
ljm

The time is running out real fast for me
I’m on death row and there’s no mercy
I was on the run they hounded me out
Found me guilty without a trace of doubt.
I’ve been living since in a six by eight cell
Counting my time for the journey to the hell
Confined alone a caged beast than human
Not allowed to meet and talk to loved ones.
‘Let the end come early’ that’s what I pray
But hangmen are scarce the reason for delay
Before me a queue of men waiting for the rope
Their mercy pleas rejected and so without a hope.
They can’t find a hangman, it’s what they say
Nobody is willing to **** for just a little pay
But that’s what I did, I killed for little gain
So I can be a hangman, if I’m ever born again.