Day is dying! Float, o song,
Down the westward river,
Requiem chanting to the Day,
Day, the mighty giver!

Pierced by shafts of Time he bleeds,
Melted rubies sending
Through the river and the sky,
Earth and heaven blending.

All the long-drawn earthy banks
Up to cloudland lifting:
Slow between them drifts the swan
'Twixt two heavens drifting,

Wings half open like a flower.
In by deeper flushing,
Neck and breast as ******'s pure
****** proudly blushing.

Day is dying! Float, o swan,
Down the ruby river,
Follow, song, in requiem
To the mighty Giver!

With margerain gentle,
  The flower of goodlihead,
Embroidered the mantle
  Is of your maidenhead.
Plainly I cannot glose;
  Ye be, as I divine,
The pretty primrose,
  The goodly columbine.

Benign, courteous, and meek,
  With wordes well devised;
In you, who list to seek,
  Be virtues well comprised.
With margerain gentle,
  The flower of goodlihead,
Embroidered the mantle
  Is of your maidenhead.

Look for life/
Beyond the decision/
Seek for your words/
Past the fill in/
Find your direction/
Around what's given/
Search your heart/
Try your own rhythm.

'Tryna get to sunny Californy' -
Boom. It's the awful raincoat
making me look like a selfdefeated self-murdering imaginary gangster, an idiot in a rueful coat, how can they understand my damp packs - my mud packs -
„Look John, a hitchhiker'
„He looks like he's got a gun underneath that I. R. A. coat'
'Look Fred, that man by the road' „Some sexfiend got in print in 1938 in *** Magazine' –
„You found his blue corpse in a greenshade edition, with axe blots'

menacing deliveries of verbal annihilation,

dissipation of pleasantries

my thoughts of you diminish

selfish we both are

undefined hostilities lie within me,

unacceptable risk.

A poem—
is just one more
scrap of paper
that has sailed off the table
in a bottle
with a cry for help.

When I awake I become miniature;
ant to antelope, arachnid to man.
Creeping spirals, dotted lines, linear
thoughts. Calm I calculate, construe my plan.

Today is bland, grey skies, brown souls; stroll palm
in hand. I clap your smile,you touch my knee.
Contact of eyes, then lips; quivering arm,
blue eyes eclipse. I grow momentary
wings, sit on the stars as butterfly sings.

Midday passes, afternoon sun, boredom
arises. I leave you be, head growing,
you crowned my ego. Vision clouded;

I am Hercules, sovereign power.
Deluded grandeur, I perch on my tower.