A night owl in the harvest moon
was awake till the crack of the dawn
but wasn’t surfing online, wasn’t rowing
the boat in the digital river.
Deep down to a dreamweaving scene
that was, in musing, painstakingly creative.

Wait till you snap up a witty aphorism.
The darling buds of May will be in bloom.
The tickled pink nightingale too will
give out its voice, singing a song.
Save a copy and tweet it to all,
but do give us a demo, tell us a bit more.
Where does it shine and sizzle?
Where did the winter tuck away the rose?

I've tried to write
So many poems about you
But you're beauty is copyrighted
And I don't believe
In plagiarism

There was a bang at the door, but it wasn't the pizza.
Marcus revealed himself to a man standing a head taller, who was buttoned up in a well fitted suit.
"Mr. Williams?" the man asked.
Marcus shook his hand.
"Marcus. How can I help you?"
The man introduced himself as Daniel ***, a representative for Eris Save States, LLC.

     "Wow." Marcus stared down at this kitchen table.
Daniel gathered his papers, and bowed his head.
"I want to make it absolutely clear," Daniel said,
"You're under no obligation, whatsoever,
to take any action with this information.
I understand this may be overwhelming news."

     Only muddy images came to Marcus's mind. Her light brown hair. Her green eyes. Her umber skin. Out of touch, out of reach. Running from mom, running from school. A ghost, ghosted him, and that was that.

Why, is the superfluous one.
What, is unnecessary, too.
How & When & Where, then,
are inescapable.
     If you act on instinct,
how far will you go to self preserve?
When will you break?
Where will you turn?

Is it your self you'd extinguish,
or is it the other flames?
There can be only one,
but the prize is: death comes
down the path of least resistance
to take a multitude of shapes.

     As for my body,
nothing much to lose,
nothing left to save.

As for my body,
nothing much to lose,
nothing left to save.

this is what comes next,
we have learned
to wait for
this.