I was never shocked
at how quickly I became
used to the way
you make me insatiable
for lips never known before,
infatuation is a danger
and I’m self-indulging,
but let me pull you down
with me. I promise
there are beautiful views
in Hell.
That stark wasteland,
putrid and silent and dark,
makes it easier to appreciate
whatever we have now. But
I’m sure you already knew
that, leading the army of
the only man more evil
than you. The flames
in your eyes I mistook for
passion never hesitated
to burn me.
How wicked. Wicked, wicked,
wicked eager me jumping
to trust you while you licked
the purity from my soul.
One day someone else will
feed my voracious appetite
and I will simply know that
numbing, blissed feeling as
“the way you used to make me feel”.
Without the smoldering core
of being used.


**V. K.

The sun itself follows
your radiant beauty,
as though it were a
sunflower searching
for the brightest ray.
I'm sure anywhere
you go could double
as spring break, warm
as your smile is, and
your lilting voice
inspires me to write
verse after verse of
flowering poetry,
that even if I were
talented, would still
not near your level
of welcomed grace.


**V. K.

I jumped on a freight in Monticello,
Didn't know where it was going - you
Had given up on me, baby -
So, I'd given up on you.
A rumbling song as the train rolled on,
I had plenty-a shine to drink-
I was trying anything I could,
So I wouldn't have to think.

Few and far between
Are  the hopes I'll ever have
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams
Are few and far between.

I could still remember how
You said you wished that I would leave.   
I'm giving you what you wanted.
Something you can believe.
You won't hear from me, anymore.
I know that to you I'm dead.
I won't ever haunt you,
Like your words that won't leave my head.

Few and far between
Are the hopes I'll ever have,
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams,
Are few and far between.

The boxcar slowed in the railway yard.
I jump off - the gravel cut up me knee.
I heard them barking, so I took off a'running.
The dogs were closing in on me.
I made it to the Vieux Carr'e
Before the St. Louis clock struck three.
Tell the children I love them.
Or better, tell 'em not to think of me.

Few and far between
Are the hopes I'll ever have,
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams,
Are few and far between.

I'll always wish it was different.
I hope you find somebody new,
Hope you find the kids a daddy
Who's good to them and you.
I hope you know that I really tried
To be the man you needed me to be.
I couldn't keep you from happiness,
You couldn't keep me from being me.

Few and far between
Are the hopes I'll ever have,
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams,
Are few and far between.

September has come,
It is hers whose vitality leaps in the autumn,
Whose nature prefers
Trees without leaves and a fire in the fire-place;
So I give her this month and the next
Though the whole of my year should be hers who has rendered already
So many of its days intolerable or perplexed
But so many more so happy;
Who has left a scent on my life and left my walls
Dancing over and over with her shadow,
Whose hair is twined in all my waterfalls
And all of London lilttered with remembered kisses.

- Louis MacNeice, "Autumn Journal"

He picked up a pebble
and threw it into the sea.

And another, and another.
He couldn't stop.

He wasn't trying to fill the sea.
He wasn't trying to empty the beach.

He was just throwing away,
nothing else but.

Like a kitten playing
he was practicing for the future

when there'll be so many things
he'll want to throw away

if only his fingers will unclench
and let them go.

-Norman MacCaig