You will be argonaut
one more of the supernumerary
trodding upon the cindered ones
come before you
limbs wooden and somite
encircling a moon
tumescent and blue
in permafrost garrote
on constellations edge
tottering over synapse
mocking
like a mime on highwire
your guilt
lupine in its longing
sawtooth timberline in vivisect night
down promontory
to frozen wave
the broken spoke of your step
on sleetslick carapace
past the preterit
embalmed hide of the world
into the silent millstone
berserk
to return emptyhanded
and changed

There was once an explorer, with one thing on his mind
He searched through a sea of sand, time after time
Ever looking for his treasure divine

He seemed to have one thing on his mind
Ever looking for his treasure divine
And repetition awoke his blind
Rest your soul, the chest he did find
Though still emptyhanded, there was nothing inside

There is nothing like the sweet
blossoming of a pretty flower.
So spectacular to watch
in her full splendor,
the unfolding of soft-petals,
tantalizing,
mesmerizing & radiant,
she is the artwork of the gods.

And how can a mere mortal man
describe such a sacred fragrance?
A primordial blend
of raw musks,
intoxicating &
delicious,
the succulent flavor
shakes the very foundation
of one's soul,
it stirs my heart to madness!

Such a sensuous elixir,
her matchless taste,
so satisfying,
so pleasurable,
it warms my inner core
right down to my very marrow.

And who can think about tomorrow?
For at this precise moment,
I long to swallow her
pleasing-moistness
with great earnestness,
a zest,
a drunkenness
prepared for me
by the arctitects of the heavens,
the universe of love.

And I should be so gentle,
to protect & to pamper,
to cherish her &
be careful not to crush
her magnificent-beauty.

For such a wonderful gift
is not for me to squander,
lest I wander
alone
for the rest of my natural life,
perish brokenhearted
& emptyhanded,
without a single flower,
held between
my tender fingers.

She thought it was
the *** that turned me on
& left me emptyhanded.

But I guess she thought
she wasn't good enough too.
If she only knew
it was her mind that
made my motor run,
then perhaps, she
would have stayed.

Making love was
just the bonus
between us.