poet crossed t, dotted i, stated the obvious and wept,

closing his journal as monk at prayer

eyes cast down, hand trembling at

thoughts of another seasonal rejection..



leaves deserted

trampled dense dull nothing




a coughing-sick autumn

rasping crackles crisp underfoot

whispering breezes cacophonied

stroking words not meant to bleed..




poet paused, inhaling the scent of seeds fallen on paths,

guilt trembling his thighs,

hands clasped tight behind tense spine,

crumbling to history..




waltzing boughs

amused at their own soft music




trickling through space they leapt

quavering questions too personal

at the corners of each page

where triangles bend




poet shuddered, hand raised over beckoning blank paper,

invisibility signed in triplicate,

blotted out by white sheets

of snowfall barren meanings..




five lines, five spaces

a collection of simple consonants




vowels thread in silver solitude

sighed memories of touch type

word considered emblazoned ripe as

every good dog deserves -




poet sighed, remembering past mists and misdemeanours

when men sat weeping lost dreams

their would.be.rich ambitions emptying

cups overflowed with angst..



words crucified, crossed out in anger

lost in analysis, emotion forgotten


timpani throbs to mid-summer sips,

mythical hero dressed doublet green

alert at his toes tentative,

daring to step into shallow grave




poet crossed t, dotted i, stated the obvious and wept,

closing his journal as monk at prayer

eyes cast down, hand trembling at

thoughts of another seasonal rejection..