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night-lit
parking lot
lovers
their carnal
crusted
romance

their
fast food
*** cuisine
96 or 69
splattered
back seat
czars

cold vinyl
fingers clutching
limbs crushing
hearts bleating
(me now)
sounds of souls
retching
on
leatherette  

their provenance:
sired from
co-mortal
****** pain
graveyard
parking lots
and all the love
that each
could shove

claw clutching
souls
in life jackets
of lies
in solidarity
of death
curdled eyes
crusted curled
lips

their matte
reflections
in basalt
and daggered
waves of pain
reward for ******
****
only the echoes
from sodium-lit
shadows
and *****'s creed

a testament
to fate
as real as rock
and stone bound
Big Bang physics
(another hedonism)
All Praise!

thus dawn nears
penetrated souls
pretending child's
innocence
(why me?)
they dream
of fondled cherubim
of oral ****** angels
they are lovers
of the grave
the life-sap that rises
washing winter from my veins
inebriates me as i feel
my wooden fingers grow
alive again beneath
your sunset-green
umbrella of love
and as i stand here
leaf-blind
my tree-soul-self
sees and i admire the aura
of your birchbark skin—
grace-white and delicate
i want to wend my poetry
along those branches
branches that blow
that tend
that cradle
the wind
that bend the sky
upward—
to grow into
whenever i try
to reach you
i can't
and THAT leaves me leaning
feeling dark and dark
thoughts petrify
my raging sap
into amber crystals that
fall to the ground
and each crystal
becomes a
precious gem
where within is trapped
a tear of love for you
and we sleep
side by side by side
and rarely touch
as our roots tangle
in the under-earth
while my grizzled bark
and oaken amber
grows old
and maybe we
can be a chair together
sometime
We are nameless, I-men, striving
far above the beggared notions
of apathies and death's release.
We are shadeless, unencumbered
beings drawn from Prime Consideration.
Others, fallen, fail, false in trade,
offer i for I.
                     I, reaching
skyward, holding fast the honest
roots wherefrom he rises— i-man,
reaching down, splits the rhizomed root,
splicing fungused-i to feed upon
a stolen I-man grace. And struts.
Beauty without increment
(Instrument, implement

A single breath
(Principled, immiscible

In spiritum unum
(Indivisibilis, invictus
.
In spiritum unum = In one breath
Indivisibilis, Invictus = indivisible, undefeated
"Don't be silly, Dad. I'm your only daughter."

"Yes. But you'd still be my favorite even if you had a dozen sisters and as many brothers."

(pause)

"And your mother is my favorite wife."

"Oh Dad, you only get one wife, you know."

"At a time. And anyway, she would still be my favorite wife even if the other wives were favorites too. If I loved them all as much as you."
.
The photograph hangs on the wall by the window
Three judges appear (one carries a folder),
A tarot card reader, embalmer, engraver
Without much to say and not much of it said
About the boot in the crib and the tire in the bed,
The round faced man and the *** on his head
Painted with flowers and chipped on its edge.
And the cat near the door with its collar and bell
Flailing and airborne and mid caterwaul.
And the three-legged dog with her leash on
And sweater, jubilant, leaping— Mon Dieu! Grand jeté!
And the crow— O the crow! In its cage cawing “Fire!”
The crow crowing “Mayhem!” and “****** most foul!”
The dog and the cat and the crow and the tire,
The cage and the crib, the *** painted in flowers;
All in a frame with a sign alongside—
“Self portrait around the Ides of July.”
A ribbon is clipped and then hung for its owner.
It bears the word “Mention” and then the engraver
Makes a note on a form he hands to the embalmer.
The tarot card reader, turns— She and her hat,
And addresses the room, “Ain't no card made for that.”

.
Authority: noun, (with capital A)
An expert source of inexpert advice
Or information, with little to say
But popular amongst Authori-ties
Which is the (noun) plural form of small minds
With little to say and lots of them saying
(Hear those majuscules!) FACTS HARD TO UNWIND!
We find ourselves inclined to decline such waylaying
Of truth or of fact with opinions sans stature
(Somehow I have managed twelve beats to my measure)
Like Truth from The Mount of their own manufacture
They pander and ponce for their profit and pleasure.
Authority: noun (with capital A)
What can I say? It's the Word of The Day!
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