all my hallucinations
have the mysterious
ring of truth to them

no words fill my mouth
or cross my naked tongue
weaving wiles upon my
                                            burnished lips;
no,
         i am not eyes seeking
         the unseen without the herald
         of fire or grace

i am more than the sum
of flesh with blood,
the bridge of thought

i shall traverse
the straits of morpheus,
the furrowed path to
the singularity
                            of doom,
alone,
            unbowed
                               and unburdened

stacks of refuse beside steel poles
bronze-legged girl walking close by
acid reflection within her green eyes
molten sun edged around thin white clouds
a smothering layer of heat upon her
her mind filled with dreams without dialogue
music shaped by melancholy concealed nearby
an expanse of fragility linked through the city
the sudden stir of tv voices as a door opens
light denied as dusty shutters descend into a void
the quick flare of food smells along the etched sidewalk
her stride unbroken as she slowly diminishes
another unemployed thursday afternoon upon the horizon

with little to do
i sat waiting to go

lights at length dull,
the power, perhaps low, failing,
someone coughing out of sight,
the mutterings of rolling leaves
a loneliness now commonplace,
a scrawny yellow cat rubbing
against your exposed calves
in this season of dying,
infertile shadows across the burn
of your wordless face
somehow endless in the advancing night,
your gentle hand suddenly within mine
all the pleasure I have ever known
through the birth of blossoming desire