i had to discard, but that brought the butterflies and the angler-fish.
it kept the genies and the shrink-wrap in stainless-steel steel traps... in the permanent traps.
we drag our baskets haphazard. beneath the undulation of the Under.
below the Was.

i slept on thin gems and dust mites.

i built a clock from the errant gears of your heart and charmed nowhere out of harm's way on time.
i bought you a Man O' War jellyfish and stone kisses from a derelict wish.
we gag the drastic Mamet, till we Stoppard.

Just Because.

people ****, but.... nevermindpeoplesuck
theycluckruckus in the wonderment. they can't trust trust.
they bleak speak. they last week a year from now, but somehow -
know how they don't remember. but they suspect.
and that's a cloud.
bold suns fumble the opaque  hail of our hardy Undone.
it shines the less.
we are mammals in the heaven of our ignorance.
but not god's fun.

spoon fed my keepsakes as nothing blots the sun so much
you teach me how to cringe in spun sugar. the nape of your
neck.
gleefully, we usurp the thicket of our mild dementia. sullen
joy equipped. a sumptuous dirge curdles the myth, your fins
***.
as troubadours, we malinger in the pith of our blunt fruit. crust
removed from our daily bread. our basket of basilisks, bathe
in stone.
duel wielding our gazebos... we bivouac in our ambivalence, by
turns we move. you tip toadstools as i milk maidens for their
candelabras.
our palominos run. we do
violence to timpani and click mice.
pc
drifting in the cyberwocky. we transit the binary auto-bond
and paste
whats
clip.

blue thumbs thread cranberry noose. our ***** nods off. fronds
of juniper and cannabis slap the window pane. throughwhich
a *** mouse pounced on frond’s sway.
startled, we move the furniture of our eastern proclivities.
for thine is the kingdom
of our discontent !
swing-shift lap-dogs, trundle west of the east village. smell
of ****** and nag champa. idiots sting.
idiots braid zodiacs with greasy fingers. [ indeed ]
and
you
preach from your gut...
( your left breast     marvelous with taint) and saltwater taffy.
we
laugh again-
at things     we have
and now
only
harbor ghosts
where the rain
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.


this is the new
intimacy.

sleep is sleep. it comes like weary and leaves your bones less bone.
it comes. it descends like charity and swallows your sparrows like a blue whale
on a dark night
in midday.