The funny thing about things is that some things are funny and other things are not,
I have lots of things to think about and about the same number of things I don't think about,

and the thing about thinking or not thinking about things is that things don't just go away unless you lose things,
things like socks and memories.

That's everything

Mainly blue, but colours shift
as the nape of your neck smell might appeal
or the mole on your cheek
that will stubbornly never be Marilyn

This love, like bright sunlight in shallows
will dapple and confuse greens and golds
as our souls ossify in cool weeds

His reflection looked up from the page of a book
that he'd read,
his life mirrored in each chapter
the wild lustful nights
the mornings after

and now he took time to refresh his memory
in
chapter three he didn't look so good
by
chapter six he was fixed up for the summer
with a bombshell,
he recalled that she was a stunner,

and some pages were missing
which was quite a relief,

the prologue.

an old dog and his dash
rash at times,
the clock chimes
midnight.

spring succeeds chill air
old lindens leaf out and bloom
birdcall and tisane