One flame-winged brought a white-winged harp-player
Even where my lady and I lay all alone;
Saying: ‘Behold, this minstrel is unknown;
Bid him depart, for I am minstrel here:
Only my strains are to Love’s dear ones, dear.’
Then said I: ‘Through thine hautboy;s rapturous tone
Unto my lady still this harp makes moan,
And still she deems the cadence deep and clear.’

Then said my,lady: ‘Thou art Passion of Love,
And this Love s Worship: both he plights to me.
Thy mastering music walks the sunlit sea:
But where wan water trembles in the grove
And the wan moon is all the light thereof,
This harp still makes my name its voluntary.’

Pamper me with poetry
For it be, favorite indulgency
Send me notes with scribbled song
Join this **** verbose throng

Come to me with words of texture
Preach to me a loving lecture
Find more poets, listen, read
Favor phrasing; inbreed my need

Circuit airwaves charge this lust
Magnanimous wishes throw and ******
This family of balladry
For this bard works flawlessly

I’m a ***** for all your words
Give me seconds, give me thirds
Spit on me your favorite quatrain
Indulge my fervor macaronic and insane

Frail demeanor of library index cards
packed with Dewey’s decimals
stared upon so many times

some of you stigmatized with graffiti
“Read This” and “Don’t Read This”
as if the vandal knows

I wish to ****** each one of you
good precise direction you give
care in punctilious hand print
of maimed athenaeum tenders
all with long stretched noses
bridging reading spectacles
eyeing out naughty gigglers

stigmatized themselves by
rolled up quaffs
with pushed in pencils
or retractable ballpoint pens

writing implements held so delicately
while you were ascribed

O index cards of my shielded youth
how you protected me, informed me

Guided me on treasure hunts
where my imaginings still take me
away, in isles of knowledge

information coded in numbers and letters

Yours is the power

Badger: (Sniffs and snorts) You, you Sir are on my road. Listen, you I am speaking to you. Who are you? Why is it that you lay on my road? This is my road and you do not belong here. Wake up Sir, or I shall become indignant. What right have you here on my road? I do not take lightly to strangers appearing on my road, in the middle of a night as such. You see, only the stars are out tonight to guide my way. You Sir are an obstacle of alarming disproportion and you indeed do not smell well. In fact I would say, you stink. So if you would kindly remove yourself from these premises, I will not be forced to reckon with you further. (Snort, sniff) Sir, Sir?!

Man: (Waking) Huh? Wha-wha-wha-what? (Shriek, shiver) Uhh!

Badger: Oh for the goodness of ground squirrels. Now this is indeed no such behavior in which I shall tolerate. Take your stinking self off my road before I snarl, and snap upon your nose, a reminder you should never forget.

Man: Oooh. Ahh. I am sorry Mr. Badger, Sir. Please forgive me as I am not well and must have suffered a spell here on your road. I insist Sir, I am not a drunkard or here to cause you harm. It’s just that at times I lose equilibrium, as my brain and nerve endings are not in harmony. I am so sorry to have made such a spectacle of myself, here on your road. If you give me a moment to compose myself, I shall be on my way.

Badger: Oh, I see. Well, this is some fine mess. I do suppose you will need some assistance. Take cover there, over by that tree across the road there, on the other side. I will divert the attention of the bear and mountain lion, as they shall be following up shortly. Now scurry on, or waddle or whatever it is you do.

Man: Thank you kind Sir. Mr. Badger Sir (Shuffles across street.)

Badger: Oh bother, no need for sniveling. Move along.

(Later at dawn, man wakes to lawn sprinkler hosing him down, and an odd recollection.)

His heart sings Lady Gouldian Finch
Rainbow brings Australian pinch
Of endangered colors multitude
Serenading down under longitude

Aviculturist marvels her spectrum
Heartstrings plucked by plectrum
Weaver wonder family Estrildidae
Aurora avian ambit sub Passeridae

How he adores you each and everyday
Sets his eyes towards Yinberrie Hills
Sorghum sprinkles to petite shrills
Your song, his song vivid dye fills

Certain pizzazz environmentalists thrill
Colored curtain draws on man’s will
I know a man singing Lady Gouldian
Join him now as nature’s guardian

I sit inside my window
he sits outside my heart
he passed upon the cement
a heart that did not start

They could not bring him back
It seems he never was
there for me some how
but what I had, Twas

sometime ago he left
pain of windowpanes
call out beyond the glass
resonance that feigns

Tribute to his ignorance
mine, just the same
Do recall his beauty
though never gained much fame

It snapped shuttered darkness
left more dead inside
Some may wonder what becomes
of wishes we abandon, and hide

falling from the window
another sees his flight
marks a man forever
consequence so slight

superbly executed fall
and there lie all the parts
mangled broken ******
not one, but two hearts

I see it so plainly
still to very day
my love on pavement
It doesn’t go away

pain of windowpanes
makes no sense to me
cannot grieve today
bones and flesh I see

Please don’t give pity
it is not for what I ask
Just look upon this city
and all its broken glass