If Wednesday had a boyfriend they would rendezvous on Monday.
They would eat fried rice and stroll in the rain. Without umbrellas.
Monday would be horrified. But Simply Horrified.
Tuesday spreads a rumor and I still can’t find my cellphone.

In a sea of screens,
there is only one blindness
to see with.
so cherry blossoms
are no longer meaningless -
On Wednesday or until
they Break-Up.

and Friday gets all that Rebound Action.

Sleep has been a sluggish pixie and the moon a constant Patheon
Of Twilight Sirens. I am lulled into molasses eyes and am never sane.
Only a  ghost in my sheleton. A malingering cocoon
in the shape of a perpetual Snow White Crane.
I garden the grove of Midnights inner thy
and valiantly persist. I lay siege where I lay down my arms to suffer peace - as merely a mirage of luminous Tchotchkes and stolen kisses from Abyssal Lips.

Under wrong stars, I roam the Halls of UnTime. I go on my way where looming is sprinting into stagnations embrace
with all the vigor of Hermes. Floating in the hall is like surfing a dark gods wave. An undulating fog
of prodigious oblique.  in haste.
I am a Time Machine that writes poetry
and may never finish my Tea.
Earl Grey.

With the Soul of a
Frozen Agog.

you can keep going indefinitely…
but you will stop.
any whiff of scandal is romantic.
and every liberty, slavery
to unclean thought.
your clubbed foot is your
half-sister… but your genius
is married to mania.
all boy with too many parabolas
to be a man of any
treacle heart.
your Annabella wants money
and you can’t live
without it.
but you can’t live
enough.

and Doubt
doubts
It,

i am where the luck runs out of lucky.
tarnished yarns of harmony.... harming things.
like an earworm in a blind spot.
with your heart disarmed.

i am delayed by a Winter
underneath my skin.
that only your marmalade can burn.
as i surrender to the victory
of my sank Armada… i foist
my dark hilarities
upon the spike of a spoon?
how many gnomes must die
before my lawn is merely
Hideous?

how many ways can i stop
asking that?

i completely believe that i believe
in something.
but i go to great lengths
to be Nothing.
i step outside
where our intimate things
have private thoughts.
i eavesdrop on silence
to know what you’re thinking.

so rub my shoulders
before you destroy me.

let me linger in your aspect.
like a moth allergic to pain.
[ but can’t get enough ]

Let me down like
You mean It.

Let me go like
You hate me..

Be more ghost
Than an always ‘ Maybe ‘.

Let me down where
It counts for Nothing

with all the “ Goodbyes “
In the palm
of your
hand,

over my mouth.