we have scorpions
my wield has two eyes
i saw no bee
running my right hand

up the railing and
continues hurting..
the cunning man i am
i urinated on it

and that has stopped
there is some wisdom
in the old ways
***** is a natural

healing..

vi

rainy day scribe
would like to imbibe
sweet long ago youth
to kiss your red mouth
that soured wine
and screamed our
insane face..

i would look into your eyes
and tried not to
think of them
so much for
that no..
but i´ d be gone
it was the ****
and all that colors
when we got effed up
you saved your best insights
for our arguements
you brought me two black
kittens
i put you in bed and fed you
porrige
everyone complained
i went to the occasional party
but prefered the country
we see the cure..

i lived the country
we went to cinema
we saw the piano
you on the bus

me on my bike..
i enjoyed that forrest ride
cool in the morning
and out of the breeze
you with the haarlam gazette..

o twas a cold of a winter so
i might visit my friend fiet
who lived on a house boat
with so many cats and dog
and a chicken and geese..
we would have a cup of t
and looked at her photos..

when the canals froze
when at the sea side
or with a sweet cognac
and a pint of mild
heck my hand throb
and my heart too..