a mourning dove is
not a morning dove unless
heard in the morning

Another definition of sadomasochism is golf.

Metaphysically speaking, computers are straitjackets of the soul.

The only time I feel secure is when I'm away from my computer.

Is anything quite as peaceful in city life?
All that world of water and quick glimmers of fish.
Or gleefully finding pollywogs wiggling through the shallow waters along the concrete shore.
And if you listen carefully you can almost hear the sun singing.
Unpack your suitcase of dreams.
There's no one here to bother you. Time stands still
like the water lilies and the rose bushes serenely undisturbed...
while in the middle of the pond might be a statue of a cherubic angel
smiling down its happy blessings.

each one of us is
a masterpiece in life's flow
of closing circles

tribulation in mind
heart in glove
the wayward depot sways like an old Cinerama
she whispers something in his ear
a rushing train destroys his equilibrium
he can't hear a thing
he thinks she said love
he can't be sure
that word he so often mishears it seems in the brokerage of his desires
the truth climbs invisibly
like the ascending jet he hears above
he has to nod
she too
they part
first step a ladle of tears drops
the porter reaches out his hand, helps him up
the metronome of his wave at her through a nearby window
has failed to reach its object
he can't see her anywhere
as the hungry speed of the train gains
obliterating even the passing landscape's familiar slate