none of it
is meant
the way
it feels,
it makes
me feel.

the real thing?
but a cold dish.

i hate emptiness.

time to move.
void is always
vacant.

Two fishing poles, a feather,
a leather jacket with holes
on both elbows, forty-four
dollars and change in
an envelope, some dope,
a pair of worn out cowboy boots,
a clay flute shaped like a bird
that can't whistle a tune worth a lick,
an unused bus ticket, a picture
of two kids laughing pretending
to fly; an eyelash in my eye.

When men are from mercury and not from mars
It means women are from unmentioned galaxy stars

When you give me your messages
In multitudes of melodies & Curious cacophony of cranial codes
Dare I decipher this disconcerted data
In
Massive mainframes of masked mental material
Hidden honeysuckle hints buried deep within
Lust covered lurking lexicons in libraries of linguistic whisper hints
For
Love innuendos in serpentine tongues
Like a brainwave barrage by day & Titanium telepathy attacks by night
You stop at nothing to remain in my sight

I never told you I was from unmentioned galaxy stars  
You’re a man from mercury and not from mars