lost
  too long now
   for anyone
    to remember
my mouth

a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush…*
Exodous 3:2

My love
you are a match
that sparks.

Your legs
are fireworks;
your thighs
speak promises;
your arms
hold wonders;
your dress
opens into
paradise;
your face,
a fanfare
of light.

You ignite
this needy 
old body
once more.

It explodes
and I burn
like the Bush.

Holy fire.

Omnis in hic sum...*

Writers write to understand. Axiom.
But time worries ever onward.
Alchemists in a dungeon. Thinking magick.
Realistically demanding the impossible.
Trying to tell what must not be told.
Feeling things not understood.
First, last, in between, without end.
Things intuited, not comprehended.
Spectacular. Ordinary. Ecstatic. Troubled.
Listening to humanity’s sad, silent music.
Struggling to be worthy of themselves.
Practicing successive language experiments;
Cast in the dazzling fluidity of words.
Blowing life into this quintessence of dust.
Forever in a frenzied rush, for:
  Envious time doth ever slide.
  This single day is what they own.
  Tomorrow they may be denied.

What was a storm
here and there
has become a tsunami
of catastrophes.
We are subsumed
by flowing disaster.
We open futile umbrellas
or furiously doggy paddle
to stay dry and afloat
without result.
The Ten Day Forecast
calls for doom, gloom,
and genocide with
a sprinkling of famine,
war, and pestilence.
Turn on the news,
everywhere the waters rise.
Sixty-five million refugees
bob upon the swells.
Compassion founders
like a  rusty ship.
Simple decency
takes a dive.
Don’t bother to
hold your breath.
Morally speaking,
we are all
fundamentally sunk.

Circus to close after 149 years*

Speaking of apocalypses,
this current model is a yawn.

A large, loud golden retriever
barks out random orders
and fear collapses the world
like a wet tent or used ******.

People scream in the streets,
but facts remain few and unlikely.

A big chunk of reality is missing.

Even the elephants are confused.

You’ll never make a show out of that.

ex uno plures

The earth quakes, roils, groans  and trembles.
The ****** minded mob rumbles and roars.
The *** itself has melted into chaos.
One devolved into many. Fractious factions.
Deaf falcons stray awaiting further orders.
Dissonant screams rend the unsettled night.
A plague on both our houses and none immune.
Commonwealth collapsed. Polity in ruins.
In a Republic of dreams and visions, now
civil blood doth make civil hands unclean.
Colors chosen, two gangs spew discord.
Everybody shouts, *which side are you on?
  Weapons of fear fill every angry hand;
  against itself, a land divided cannot stand.

or, a few reasons I left Facebook*

Sick of: conflict, bigotry,
inanity, politics
(of all persuasions);
cat memes, dog memes,
memes in general;
kids and grandkids
I don’t even know;
people who prefer
animals to people;
delight in ignorance,
people who won’t,
or can’t, read anything
longer than five lines;
having to consider
everyone’s feelings
all the time, which
is just another form
of self-censorship;
losing friends in
the real world over
mere comments
in the virtual world;
increasingly intrusive ads,
and the fact that I hate
punk, puke billionaires
like Mark Zuckerberg.
I could go on but
everyone has their
own, personal lists
so why bother?