I wait in the sunset garden as planet grows
it's auburn scarf.
s
u
d
d
e
n
l
y
                      I hear
heart monitors slowing

down.
Everything                        receding.
People­ come home from universities tapping their feet
to tenor conclaves, palms
rubbed together for a spark
because clouds have become

air condition systems.

Layers are now a necessity.

Soft sheets glow to those enlisting
in another year of the continental war.

We ENTER A TIME OF WAITING
the moon is murkier and light thickens like
EPHEMERAL AUTUMN VAPOR.

Masayoshi Fujita makes Victoria
seem more methodical at night.
(the  one  man  xylophone  orchestra)

There's non conventional furniture everywhere!
(Candle      in a          fishbowl)
But isn't that us all?
especially this time of year?
wax
to
water.

Comfort is rooftops under
HEAVYRAIN.

Spurs of ((isolation)) can be therapeutic.

On another note,
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND CHILDREN OF ALL AGES"
Think ******* that, just think is all I ask.

As a poet, I am blind in the same way you are not.

Accordions are the instrument of the universe.

I'm personally a fan of elevator
m
           u
                     s
                                 i
                                              c

TOKYO seems an appealing place to visit
as any.

I crave a certain spontaneity, an abruptness
S      L    O   W   L  Y.....................
soaking
thru those leaves
who's moment has come
                                         to pass.

Alarm clocks fizzle
where the weary lay,
letting their hair go it's own way
(to enter a new era where sunglasses serve no purpose)

......I'll wait for that time, like a true Buddhist that holds his
patience in front of him.

A daisy wilting into gold.