TWO loves had I. Now both are dead,
And both are marked by tombstones white.
The one stands in the churchyard near,
The other hid from mortal sight.

The name on one all men may read,        
And learn who lies beneath the stone;
The other name is written where
No eyes can read it but my own.

On one I plant a living flower,
And cherish it with loving hands;      
I shun the single withered leaf
That tells me where the other stands.

To that white tombstone on the hill
In summer days I often go;
From this white stone that nearer lies
I turn me with unuttered woe.

O God, I pray, if love must die,
And make no more of life a part,
Let witness be where all can see,
And not within a living heart.

If you were to ask me, i'd
Laugh it off, saying
Of course i do, sweetie. why
Verify? three words
Each day suffice, so
You know, right?                 no, wrong.
Only, ever, always: you.
Uncontrollably, hopelessly, totally, i do.

Don't look.
The world's about to break.

Don't look.
The world's about to chuck out all its light
and stuff us in the chokepit of its dark,
That black and fat suffocated place
Where we will **** or die or dance or weep
Or scream of whine or squeak like mice
To renegotiate our starting price.

As I was sitting at my desk studying for finals,
I heard in the distance the sound of a Clown's Horn?
"honk-honk" the sound grew louder and closer "honk-honk"
Fairly certain the Circus had not come to my Apt. complex,
Bested by my curiosity as it continually increased
My need to discover the horn's origin became the priority over my studies.
My focus shifted from the page in front of me holding all the answers,
To the outside world were the answers where yet to be discovered...
Breaking free of my "Study Shackles"
A new goal to precedence over all obstacles,
Mind now on a single track,
The spirit of pioneer steers my intentions,
Set forth from my dwelling, into that vast universe of possibility's
That simpletons refer to as the parking lot.
Honk-Honk the sound hit my ears like a search beacon would register on radar,
How far past my car or 100 cars who cares
What was this I continued to ponder in the recesses of mind that was playing like it was recess
Placing a collect call to myself I called my other senses to man their positions.
Sight-CHECK! but nothing was seen,
Touch-CHECK! but my feet and the ground was the only contact being made.
Smell-CHECK! But nothing, wait hold for confirmation....
Could it be... ELOTE!?!  
Corn on the cob... on the stick!!
Mexican style elote!!
I had not enjoyed, "G-lote or Getto Elote" since San Jose
Since the last time I spent time with cousin Chip
Then just as I turned the corner the beacon sounded once more
"Honk-Honk" ELOTE....! and it was only $1.50 Perfect!
Proceeded to purchase two, one for me and one for you,
My cousin my brother...
Devouring mine with you in mind,
Took a single breath took stock of what was left,
Thought, "If I wait for Chip to come eat his it will get cold before he arrives, and who wants to eat cold elote?
Not my Cousin Chip, He's a Gracia
We are just better then that.
So I did what I believe you would have done for me if you where to find yourself in the same predicament,
I ate it nice and slow.
Thinking about how grateful I am to call you my family, my cousin, my friend, my brother,
I made sure that I enjoyed every bite,
In that for a moment no matter how brief it actually was we where together again,
In my minds eye laughing, joking, enjoying elote together....
I love you and I miss you cousin,
You are always in my prayers and in my heart.
If only Australia were not so far away...

Your cold-lipped kiss
is best of all,
and I still love you
through the thaw.
The fire fades
in summer's sprawl,
and I always lose you
in the fall.

“Working your way to greater things”
He smiled, as he walked his dog
Down the river walk
Passing a waitress sweeping up cigarette butts

She smiled back
“That’s it”
He didn’t know how true he was.

She worked summers
To pay for the acting classes
and someday she wished to tell
of the day that man walked by and she replied
“That’s it”.

Years are racing in a daze,
Each step takes us further in,
Months are blurring in the haze,
Each breath draws another in,

Days are growing shorter still,
Each star dimming in the night,
Hours fading in the spill,
Each soul moving to the light,

Minutes wasted like a crime,
Each life that we hold so dear,
Seconds ticking down the time,
Each heart knows the end is near.

All that I had I brought,
   Little enough I know;
A poor rhyme roughly wrought,
   A rose to match thy snow:
All that I had I brought.

Little enough I sought:
   But a word compassionate,
A passing glance, or thought,
   For me outside the gate:
Little enough I sought.

Little enough I found:
   All that you had, perchance!
With the dead leaves on the ground,
   I dance the devil's dance.
All that you had I found.