like the corks from all the wine we've once shared
i have collected our memories in a glass jar
and couldn't even bear to hold it in my hands
in case i drop it by chance and it shatters apart
so instead, i left it to gather dust in the corner of my heart

with our memories that poured into our wine glasses
just like the rain that fell upon us as we kissed each other
under those streetlights where i would run into your arms
as if it were the first time i saw you turning the same corner
ever since you showed up at my door that one night in october

with a bottle in your hands you stole from work for us
later we found ourselves dancing to Strangers in the Night
at two in the morning while looking at each other's eyes
maybe love really was just a warm embracing dance away
yet for three years, you kept spinning me around every day

just like the ferris wheel you once took me by surprise
where we watched the sunset with my head on your shoulder
for a second i wished we could stay in that moment forever
with the red wine we had at Mont des Arts still on your lips
instead of the aftertaste of someone else behind each kiss

Moon river
wider than a mile

I'm crossing you in style someday
(someday, day)

A dream maker (maker)

My heart (you heart) breaker

Wherever you're goin'

I'm goin' that way

~
Bring your whirlwinds with you;
in the snow angel summer
bring Margot the sun.

In the hour of red glare
a rush to pick slowberries
before getting caught up in the silk.

Prisms, mirrors, lenses!
strategies for combatting visibility:
keep your eyes closed,
face away from the window.

The myriad threads of people in hiding,
they eat their own web each day,
and yet something always shines
in the heart's secret annex.

Men and women are
separated from each other,
the girls are on a train
to the Bergen-Belsen,
"white founts falling
in the courts of the sun."

Margot now cries quietly;
so silently she weeps over
sunshine and hate.
~

The mystery of life isn't a problem to solve
But a reality to experience it
A process that cannot be understood by stopping it
We must move with the flow of the process
We must join it
We must flow with it

Let go...

Farting Frank used ****
   rather furtively
A real Frank-furter Farter
    was he.

But mellifluous Maeve
   she'd **** loudly all day
She couldn't care less
   what came out of her derriere.

Roses are red
The skies are all grey
It's been 8 years
And I'm STILL not okay.
(I promise)

With the sound of sirens screaming outside,
ten knocks on the door, the shout of authority
flooding in from the red steel,
would Joe American give up Anne Frank
hiding in the attic among his dusty relics,
the crawl space shared with a family of rats,
living under the loose floorboards among
the stacks of hidden zombie apocalypse cash?

What if Jane American found Anna Franco
shuddering with her dos hermanos, madre, padre,
in the dark corners of her garage?

Would she give them 2 vests, 3 pair of pants,
two pair of stockings, a dress skirt,
jacket, shorts, lace up shoes,
wool cap, and scarf?

What if her daughter Sarah saw a black hijab Anah
patiently hidden in the foliage of their old oak tree?
Would she gift her her favorite blue fountain pen?

Would she embrace her, or if ordered,
break the neck of her rabbit?

i downed half the bottle
and out my words came
full throttle

i apologise

Sharkie

measles that
are hypocrisy
when a
hypocrite as
such was
Hansen's Disease
so theoretically
die in
luxury with
tapeworm that
****** larvae
from Brexit
where tis
Patrick's arm
and harmful
as armpit
in squaller