U n I r love letters—
O, tucked in bottles and
cast out @ c.

i drove a long way for affection
but i didn't mind a meander
into side streets of self exploration

companionship not compatability

and the simple ******* twists i turned
the gentle buses rode

i tire of you

this ship merits no singing of sad songs
cleaned my decks, the salt water is gone.

tired because of the things he does,
always remembering where i was.

these fickle things nostalgia brings,
icicle fingers touching ribs—stings.

no more Breakfast tumbling out of a Hornet's basket.
just soft thorns and gossamer wounds. only the ravens that kismet.
only the coffin cuff-links; and the splendid Pit.
only the margin for Errors beyond
your Religion...

and the woe of it.

i pray to your temples
with every slighted
touch of forehead

"i am the scientist sitting on the pew
holding a textbook bible.
i don't question you."

i have built a
rib cage chapel
out of love and letters.

i consume both love
and liquor in the dark of
Monday's Lucky Bar.