1.  Headlights glowed like cigarette ends in the twilight

2. As soon as they winked out in the warm, weedy field, and the harsh engine noise snapped into silence, I began to cry.

3. Father stepped quietly towards me and I sniffed as I smelled the earth I was digging, the sweat I was dripping, the carcasses I was covering.

4.  Beneath the distant moon Father paused, watching me sift dirt over the remains of two limp goldfish.

5. The morbid scene glittered as moonlight sparkled off my tears and the half-buried scaled.

6.  A small tribute to their salty home.

7.  As if on cue, the wind ruffled the tops of the grain in the neighboring unshorn field; the undulating stalks mimicked the ocean.

8.  Their grave remains unmarked.

I wish,
I can stop the night,
and wait for you,
when the day comes,
with cheering songs,

I wish,
I can stop the day,
and wait for you,
when the night falls
and stars kiss your lips,

I wish,
I can stop the light
chasing darkness,
and wait for you,
in the home of Gods,  

I wish,
I can stop this life,
and wait for you,
when my heart is a new,
in every birth to come,

I wish,
I can stop time,
and wait for you,
when our souls meet
in the Elysian Fields,

I wish,
I can stop the sea,
and wait for you,
swimming in the mystical
waters of eternal love.

For the seeds were woven yet nothing grew,
                                  that which watched above


sewing the earth with salty tears,
                  for he had asked for the
first woman to seed..


                             And the father
said No.......

You shall not seed fields that aren't  yours.

She is no Mary,
     you will not be an illegitimate
father to my child woven in the
             cloth of forsaken love.


They were a unity of forever.
   Your just a passing thought
to the illegitimate
consequences of fate.

And look where that got you....

There are no fields to sew,
   for your fruit is inedible

            to the palette of humanity....


The nature of you fruit is woeful,
         and your nourishment is


toxic to the substance of our fruition.