pretty lips with snakelight smile, pretty man with a dusklight bite,

pretty long ago with a soft robin egg blue, (but oh, thats long gone,)

pretty toes and a pretty cottage in the hills, (also, long long gone,)

pretty hair and pretty creekbed, (oooooh...)

and pretty and pretty and

dead what's it ?
inside the clasped lid
of never to part darkness
inching each breath
presses
pressing
with each breath
towards that titanic chasm

(into which leaps
every humdrum
scintillating eruption
of drab being)

I cannot imagine
anything more absurd than
perhaps ******* or sitting
outside on the pale veranda
of a minute café
tucked into the
silent crease of
a dying city


the light stroking
carelessly the **** soil
boils
with extremely sleepy
afternoon
every where–

and occasionally
a child
can be heard
murdering silence
with its long shriek
of rapid youth–

i wonder and play.
my hands neatly in the comely foil.
i bend and kern
each brilliantly lashed
marvel of coalesced laughter–

a tiny poem is sitting
slant wise their
across thighs
with deliberate health
of constant ***–

there is a mountain hurled
studiously *****
aggressively swept
by moonshadow
and nightdust:          (amongst the reeds

                                     a tired frog

                                      is lilting


across the ether
its ancient song           ) I wonder,


can you hear it to
ever think
upon the frail note
of its enormous throat
that to live is to die
constantly as–


a truck turns south
into the friscalating
dusklight its shadow
is minute;

and how can it
the insane probability
that we naked forevers
might suddenly be
in each distilled
anthem of terrible life,
the brute
the heap
of chaff
off from the stock
reaped by unthinkable hands

(but i think and i wonder
and my hands play amongst the
cool beds of immortal rivers
endless coils of blinding self

From the dusklight emerged two shadows
Part with the money or you are dead
Then on him rained powerful blows
Danced thousand sparks in his head.

Stop I yelled loud in impulse
In rushed blood soared up pulse
Ran to the ruffians with raised fist
Crying stop you ugly beast.

The goons were caught in wild surprise
This sudden resistance they didn’t surmise
Never thought someone would be so fool
To not be deterred by their muscles’ rule.

The chance to be brave didn’t give it a miss
I yelled once more I’ll call the police
Stood before them like one tall wall
The worse happened after a moment's lull.

In the pale streetlight glistened the knife
Swooped down in a flash to ***** out life
I rolled down the road in a fall too steep
As he lunged at me and plunged it deep.

I woke up slumberous in the nursing room
Broke through my pain her words’ perfume
You’ll be alright my heart’s brave knight
Her face beaming in my eyes’ blurred light.

My moving lips brought close her ear
She strained it hard caught me whisper
*Till that day I never knew
Could stake my life to be brave to you.

i descend into poetic oblivion
relieved as thoughts
once fragmented
are now overflowing
with great vibrancy

s p i l l i n g
without hesitation
onto pages

poignant stanzas and
afternoon poetry-smoke
tethered to dusklight dreams
in charcoal-dark ink

melting, sinking
in the effortless flow
of words
of lyrical musings
trapped for too long

now all is free
now all is whole again

Kidbikes knife through dusklight
Kicking, fearless, over curbs
Sidewalks click with footflights
Their slumber now disturbed
Cracked car windows sing songs bolder
Then, dopplering, detune
Sweaters lie on languid shoulders
Convinced it must be June

But it's only frickin' February

When we were sat
in the Jackson Square dusklight,
stain-glassed and half cut
on forever-changes and tall boys,

you cried almost all the tears
and smiles you’ve had stored
and I cried and laughed
the belly laughs of love and newness.

We both agreed, this
was the first day of the rest of our lives, but
isn’t five years is a long time
to have not been living?

We lived fiercely in the latenight roller disco,
we lived ambitious when I tried to be French,
we lived terrified in doctors offices
and waiting rooms, waiting -

for the first day of the rest of our lives
was some years ago now,
long before ringed proof,
and I’ve lived,
really lived from that day in knowing

it’s you, always you
from the first day of our lives to the last.