People of original intent
Don't always signal
The right way

at first

You think,
oh, yeah, sure
Take a right at the first
Bend

Then straight you go and take
the first bend
on the right.

Missing the bend
Not heading
Right
At
All.

Later,
When you have all but given yourself
Up to the dogs
     (always those mangy scavenging, crooked-legged dogs)

They happen to pass by
And
Point the other way

The way we were suppose to come
In the first place
Had we any conscience

That poem was almost
There

It was so close
It passed me by

Stare as I might
It kept moving
Right in front
Of my eyes

I hit the brakes
But couldn't
stop

The poem?
Who cares
No lives were lost
No rhymes
Like Frost

And not a moment
Too soon

An angel has entered my room.

Children do not follow
But become

A Serious burden
To unthink
And think again
Like a child

Caught between
The reality of being in the world
And interior being

Once thought to be
down and out

I was reborn
Into
Nothing

And again,
I am now reborn

Into a room
Now empty

And you,
You are forever still

Here
And still

I can barely hear
Your melody

A forever pouring into
My dear

And flowing back
Again

Lifting you up
Setting you down

Holding you tight
Never to let you go

Lifting our eyes
Over the waves
Taking a deep breath
Into the ocean
Our hearts contain
All emotion

Lifting her up
Holding you back
Only to find

A helpless

Child

Offering a drowning
bucket
Of things

What my dear
Can we give
That hasn't
offended her
Already?

I should have granted you

Good relations
this one time
On earth

I should have seen it coming
A lifetime ago

But it was
Too soon to call you real

Then I saw you
Walk by

So slow you passed
It was hard to breath

Neath the under-broken
Table

Below the beaten
Hellstorm

She bore two sons
One of fire
The other sun

Both so close to
Burning
The other out

I should have run
To save my life

Always at an end

It would have saved me lot of time
Had I eaten one of you then

Sulfur burns blue
Base and
Depraved
To me its best observed

I did not choose


to see me suffer,

You exact your revenge

on one-sided moral conclusions

Leaving out
The one thing
That could save us

A lesser G-d would destroy
You

A stronger one
Reaches out his hand

The irony,
my dear,
Is
We choose
Not to

Liver
River
Pees.

Open or closed
Closeted or out

A cloistered sound embanks a noun
Static chairs
Helpless stares
Shares space with

Charismatic
Specs

A dog makes a pet
Only if it
Follows you home
And even then
Needs to be let out

People don't realize
The only real sense
Of taste
We have left
Are the churning juices
Being deposited
In our cholera