the further life progresses
the more it beams stresses
the more I yearn for peace
a road with no holes or grease
a broken siblinghood
I now yearn for Paraclete
my faith in humans deplete.
so bring tonight the gleaming dream
of a furry friend who understood
the erase button of esteem
and so my dreams flow like whipped cream
in the starry starry nights of what would seem
like orange cats make the best friends
tabby kings and big boy mends
the tears of mine dear feline heart
....
or a hustling panting brown eyed brook,
a long nosed lad reads like book
who smells and licks my aching heart.
....
my colourbook waits to be filled with love
of furry lives from each colour above.

being the "sum of what the world 'thinks' I am"
is written, smeared in blood across the cave i've come to love
and leave behind but only in an understanding:
selfhood carries with it all we lack.
it carries on its seas the diatomic algae fruiting slowly back
it carries on each ladder-rung the selves that other's see,
the lovers' feelings felt,
the mailman's kindness kept--
a stranger's instant siblinghood in eye-flash recognition wept.

my heart is tattered there, and rebuilt here;
i could not be the beating love-train joyful as the sorrows,
the pain and lonely misery, the mind-split cosmic surd of this
that Jenkins must have felt, before her captors left hir dead...
--a bullet in hir back, a simple heart-stop pellet placed--
i could not be the beating love-train joyful as the sorrows,
without your words, your rich, kind thoughts of me
that others do not know they have,
that Kiesha could have known.