I thought we knew
each other by our shadows.
Stratosphere laughs.

Inappropriate,
when you touch the moon
in torrential rain.

You pay a price
to listen to Beethoven.
You become blind.

A sparrow knits the-
dim moonlight to sleep in
my arms all night.

My devotion was
different. I would watch
the meltdown of moon.

You must move like
water. There was nothing to
say, nothing to catch.

m'lady mistakes
a punch to the face
as something more
compliant
tis not his kink
you should know
as you stand there
all defiant
a twist and turn
and a slow waxy
burn
is all you ever
hoped for
but with regard
to you and
the things you
do, your neck
is what a
rope's for
to keep this man
one rule of thumb
and forget the
usual blather:
have a ****
'tween your thighs
keep your mouth
well shut and at
the end of day
when he thinks
of you not as
a ***** but
a **** is all
that really
matters

We are savage and we are cruel
And we know well what we do.
The imprints of sycophants
Echoes in blood red rooms.
The certainty of colour
Washed white and hung too soon.
A memory of light,
A bloom of deja vu.
Remembrance forgotten
Rewritten and then renewed.

Still we know not what we do.

The past is a sombre portrait,
Watercolour hung askew.
Dust and skin belie the truth
Stroke sure yet misconstrued.
In the maelstrom of intent
Will is broken before it is bent.
A promise spoken, never meant.

Still we know not what we do.

If you get what you think about
and you think about
what you don't want
what do you get?

I think about
being an elbow
or maybe Gargantua
in a tax audit

Don't gape at the gap
of shortfalls
that festoon
all things

Can't chew
with that space
the baseball
made storied

Accept each swallow
on its journey
to becoming you
and not you