Anxious for my
Afternoon embalming.
Flushed free,
Laying down the masonry
Of trees yet
To be.

I must confess I want a jack and ginger.

My favorite manieur de mots,
Your offspring making
Silk of my spit.
Two book wormholes,
Circumventing travel,
Welding my smoggy sand castle
To the grey island you anchor.
Would you care to
Fatten up Elpis
With me?