F. Murray Abraham on Rye.
Sardines in Sardinia
with Stone Soup -
And Unrequited Stuff.
Like an Aperitif.

As Foolhardy as Love.

As Deep
as a Batch
Of In-Between.
with all
the Awkward
Silences.

II

We float where we float.
Our dazzling Oblivions
like a riot of tinsel
in the heat
of all Desire.

Like a Blind Kite

On an Island
that will eat a Dolphin
because “ Why Not? “

All Things being equal…
Why stop?

It’s Tokyo.