In the dark I can

see what I want, like a book --


a bed, my mother.

Under the bottom

the star clusters angrily --


stare at the people.

Father's green leather

briefcase is in the kitchen--


filled with many dreams.

What would you do if I knocked on your door tonight? You used to say I was always welcome anytime. Does that offer still stand, or has it expired? If my name popped up on your phone, would you answer it or let it ring? You said I could call you if I needed you, but that’s the thing—I never needed you, and I still don’t need you, but God, I want you so badly. It’s been 20 days and I can’t get you out of my head, and lord knows I’ve tried.
 I just want to be in your bed with our bodies entangled as close as we can get to one another, our lips getting chapped from kissing for hours. 
I hate feeling like we are unfinished business, a half-finished house, that's waiting for the tiles to come in. I just got the call letting me know the tiles came in, baby. So come back and let’s finish building this house so I can come home.

On the peak I dream

of La Vie Parisienne --


in Tijuana.

As night spreads its ribbons of darkness
Loneliness taps at my window pane,
But too lost in reverie am I
To pay heed to its doleful refrain

Wishful thinking helps me to escape
From the madness of Life's fickle ways;
Though make-believe is a tangled web,
I thrive in its ethereal haze

How sweet the proverbial nectar
That flows from his lips onto mine;
What bliss I derive from a romance
Only my wild impulse could design

I swoon at his expressions of love
Sung and spoken in poetic verse;
(Though at times my heart scoffs at pretense,
Seeing not a  blessing, but a curse)

Yet, when I gaze deep into his eyes
I thrill to see love's reflection there;
He need only take hold of my hand
And together we climb Heaven's stair

O, how painful  are the loveless hours
Of reality I must endure;
In my dreary solitude I find
Wishful thinking holds a strange allure

Ah! but then reality holds sway ---
Once again the snake devours the dove;
But wishful thinking soon restores my peace
With its exquisite mimicry of love!

I always did fantasize about our diverse earth;
Its freezing stones in the fridges of the Arctic and Antarctic landscapes.
The idyllic playgrounds on the quiet sands of the Mediterranean Sea banks,
The amazing sun baked plains of the smoothened Sahara brown,
The tropical Haven of humid air, where the golden sun awakes in a fair and bright morning, and sets at even with its magnificent crimson smile.
What a cozy feeling can its temperate climes bring; with its sheer abundance of Clement weather.
A paradise indeed of ambient mildness.
I long for the warm gardens of Eden’s residues, with their ebullient and lush tropical green.
How pleasant it would be to cascade down the many waterfalls in an imaginary and wonderland fashion.
To go atop the zenith of each mountainous heaven from which pinnacle point you have the panoramic view of your own vanquished plains.
I once disappeared into the wind, in a midsummer night’s dream to see my global fantasies come true.
And like a boisterous eagle,
I glided high to the heavens for this global and utterly delightful bird’s eye view.

-Silly Billy

Mid afternoon,
Stubborn Jane Dune,
Wondered into the forest of death that her folks deemed forbidden

Soon she got lost,
And cried alot,
Because she couldnt find her way back to her parents grand mansion.

Moments later,
A large tiger,
Saw the scared lost girl alone and suddenly sprang into action.

She was attacked,
By the huge cat,
And as a result, little Jane Dune died and went up to heaven.