i am dead tomorrow
i wonder will i
live again the next day
or the night beyond perhaps?where

there is a silver stair
reaches through cloud
and shevel of
moonlight

up into a garden
of lilacs sleeping
betwixt a girl
and her thighs

a song will start
of dawn over the
valley of her
hips springing

into each lifeless
trestle of flower
the shaking lurch
of life to live

through jerking
happenstance of
body and make
in some other

garden between
the hips of
girl flowers
and down by

the lewd shoot
of stem
their seed to break
and life to end.