I caught that blush
you sly mountainous expanse.
He flirted with you-
breathing light his
nimbus whimsy on your cheeks and now
you sit frosted
defiled and iced
with clear
crystalline fancy.

your rouge smile
left a stain on my mind
your craggy laughter
spreads adventure on my soul.

The light cannot leave you alone
he battles with the clouds
to illuminate your colorful features.
his envious gaze leaves
your autumn blotched cheeks
radiant with reflection
of his affection

Oh mountain of mine,
you stick out in this landscape as
the only maiden worth pursuing-
the strongest mark upon the horizon
and I too,
am in love with you.

You change my mind like a massive industrial factory.
Because flowers.
Supposing friendly.
What if therefore.

You crush my forethought in your mandible machinery
For after yellow.
Beside a lake.
Through crimson humility.

I melt under your molten supervision on the grandest scale
Melodic franchise.
Hypothesize sunbeams.
And if replace me.

You reorient my viewpoints on your conveyor belt of
liquidated mellow
jurisdiction.

H
e
r
e we stand
rocking in each other’s sweat
and frothy anticipation
we sell our individuality
and purchase-
The Personality
a seething mass of vivid
B
l
u
e
watery voices
bathing the bleachers with
rival cruelty.
patriotic camaraderie.
our future residing on the chasm
that is the
1
0
0

y
a
r
d line.

So there I saw-
and then I curled
into my fetal ball of envy

my happiness had coagulated
and chilled
like a refrozen popsicle
at the back of the freezer.

even if you melted
my
stale
cracked
enclosure
you would still smell
the jealous-
like
hangover
on my breath

I swear it even
exploits my muscles
my tendons grimace
like massive internal
pulley systems.

when my mind
frowns condescendingly
at my juvenile grievances,
the follies laugh their
disassembled modulations
and ignore my pleas

no-it takes more than that.
my every yellow Laureling
becomes a necessity
to coax, soften my
serpentine
charity
from whence I have locked it.

These
mauve colored seats with the classic
delta pattern
have never looked good.  
They don’t when I sit in them,
they didn’t when you sat in them.

but you did sit in them.
so they are my favorite part of this room.

or maybe I like best the awkward colored walls
made from ribbed tan brick.
I like them because you hated them too.

No.
now that I am
scanning this cumbersome auditorium
the unwieldy
plastic
beige clock
which must have been counting seconds
for thirty years at least
stands out
as the most fantastic element
because it clumsily timed your Poli Sci lectures
too.

I laugh across the ages to you
we comment on the drab melancholy
with weary satisfaction.
As I warm the same mauve seats
where you once took identical notes.

Art, thou my duty?
perhaps thou Art my necessity-
my respite from numbed negligent
washed-out blurs

when I stray from your gaze, thou Art my scolding mother
retracting my footprints
reeling in my philosophies and
signing them with your brutish mark.

you let me see nothing,
without first whispering what should be captured.

But I am the gasping fish.
truth be told-
you only come when beckoned

I haunt you like a mosquito to a sleeper.

I need you to pound my head with energy
fill my stupor with crazed innovation
force my hand upon crayons, pencil, marker
to capture your ambiguous sighs.

I am thy vessel-
you Art my soul.