Many moons and suns
   have melted on that
     canvas horizon since
       our last cup of wine.

The key was lost
among the books
and
crumpled papers.

The phone rang loud
through the empty
house
but no answer.

The fan above
would spin and spin
like
a dark whirlpool.

The bottle slept on
the wooden floor
boards
spilling slowly.

Somewhere in that
mess, pills scattered
on
the bathroom sink.

A fly explored
the planet that
kept
it prisoner.

And
quietly
the
breathing
stopped.

I've lost
the touch
and writing
has become
a damnation.

Kids like him
spending nights
dreaming about
traveling to France
and sitting
around in a
café
wearing a beret
and black turtleneck
and smoking with
a cup of wine
on their other hand
that dream about
romance in the streets
a kiss beneath
the Eiffel Tower
musky hotel rooms
I'll never
understand
you kid
I just can't
dream that.

Metal orbs
spheres of light
heavenly
guides do not
abandon
travelers
at any
time in their
eternal
quest
and burning
withering
away to
golden dust
carried then
by the winds
withstanding
every
pain struggle
arriving
then
by carriage
at ancient
palace gates.

A dot of red
like earth springs
naturally
releasing
from beneath
those holy
waters that
haunt and run
our bodies
pricking thumb
let off all
the worries
rivers and
oasis clear
the sick realm
that plagues me.

Born in a furnace
in the center of the Earth
wordsmith like fresh swords.

Laying down
on the ground
thought not found
invisible crown
on that head
killer cold
"oh man, we're old"
soon be dead
not learned
yet
a needle earned
gone fast like a jet
they leave
they leave
they got a ticket
from the street guy
a new trinket
and they'll leave
great goodbye

The mountains went green
some time ago.
The flowers opened
some time ago.
The road did smile brown
some time ago.
The birds sang again
some time ago.

All beauty returned
some time ago,
All of it except
you.

I waited for hours
On that stool
Watching the ghosts
Pass come and go
Arriving upright
And quiet
Leaving dizzy
And loud
So loud
As if
Trying to shout
So that the cruelness
Of their days get scared
And not come back again
I ordered for myself
A drink
And another
Trying to decipher
This puzzle
They didn’t drink
For fun
For enjoyment
They drank
Same as I
To ****
Sadness
Loneliness
I sat on that stool
For so long
The specters
Unrecognizable
Blurry faces
Buried in mugs
And glasses
Bodies tied in coats
Workman's suits
Smeared makeup
They stank
Of dead dreams
Here’s to
You
Me
And another round
Please
Cheers
Fellow ghosts o' 13thSt.