carousing with breeze,
scent  of jasmine was my gift;
made me airborne quick!

her ring sits on the mantlepiece
worn thin on one side
that dull warm yellow
that gold sometimes takes on

i remember it cutting into my hand
as she held it tightly as we shopped
it was bright and shiny then

she used to wear it on her  longest finger
after dad left us, she left it off for awhile
and then wore it on the other hand

it was tight on her workworn hands then
she took it off again before she went into
this last home, but kept it locked in a security draw

now it sits on the mantlepiece, waiting
for me to find a safe place for it
for it is the little bit of my mother's spirit
that will one day be part of my son's  wedding ring,

sacred silence hangs on angel wings
blessing, watching over wakened night
fluttering on the screen, drawn to the light of
consciousness, the truth of darkened mornings.
strong, alone, remotely flipping through the
channels of the restless bar-room soul
charles bukowski, angry, drunk and droll;
pavement wisdom yanked inside, renewed and
resurrected.  rolling stone lays open,
having sprung the latent-night messiahs
preaching to insomniacal choir.
cryptic muse's recipe for coping:
be consumed, entombed, re-wombed by
worshiping and feeding written fire.

Come on, baby
I gotcha number
I know you got mine, too
So many swishy, squishy things
The two of us could do
Dig our toes into the sand
Get lost all night in Neverland
Get beamed up, and Scotty too
(Though we'll ditch him, it's only us two)
Find some old time sweet beat box
Dance until we wear out our socks
Hit the ol' pinball machine
And at the pool table we try to keep it clean
Laugh and dance until nearly two
First dates gotta end sometime boo.