in her eighties                                                         ­ 
motoring in wisdoms and whimble
beddened by stroke subtle effects  
                     and an unlucky stumble
agilely un-humble                                                    
willing to poach after life    put in the work
willing to comb back in   old welcome habits
revive living  through past youthful revisits

02/05/25

I’ll see it   once I believe it          
        the holy bell is rung
           I’ll feed myself   when I deceive myself
         the holy well is deep

04/05/25

i'll draw breath  when breath is given  
                         the holy song  remains unsung
   i'll free myself  when i defeat myself
                        the holy word  bites its tongue

i love lax and i lust after slack                              
smoky streams dream out a caution
portions of nightmarish animalian fests
                                           in blue
i love the reptilian love of sunshine        
never mind the laws and mans fortune
and preservation          
of good food 
 in oil

an odious funk                  
interior swellings
   of my own decay ?