At the kitchen sink,
raw hands scrubbed clean
of associations, the untraceable
scent of you overwhelmed me.
Its subtlety was disarming,
trawling nights of salty tongues
and toothpasted underbrush,
of bundled mornings
and the Führer’s glassy eye,
bright blue. Of wan starlight
gleaming on placid lake
and raucous beer-spiked nights
across the water. That light
presaged different things for both of us.

But that night you lingered close
on air, edging the doorjambs wedged
with year-old hesitations,
the driftwould crumbling
the threaden footfalls between
your house and mine.

Dream, chaotic misadventures yesterday;
Abyss of grief in favour
For thy been sadness savour,
Drew and flew to pensioner of wander's barrier.

Dream, sad-tuned tale of vision;
A lush vale of seeking the tranquility,
Undistinguish'd hopeful tomorrow,
Whereon dream is past; threaden the vision's sorrow.

Beyond the aching lapis fields,  
Which causes tears from eyes to reel,
Lies in utter darkness
An orb burning in the starkness.  

It burns a hue no coal could master, Polished in brilliant alabaster.
And as this lonely beast from heaven dangles,
By a single silken threaden tangle,
I snap its bare thread,
Without a solemn dread.  

And I bring it close to my heart,
Swearing from it to never part.  
Yet, once I bring my eyes to peer,
I find a lonely coal of woe and fear.  

And now I let the wind the ashes take,
For now my heart does ever quake.

We say we have no money
Did we look down at
The worn out shoes
Earth stained blood stained
Pus stained putrid smelling
Shoes of the homeless
We say we're broke with
Nothing to spare
Did we look up at
Earth stained blood stained
Pus stained putrid smellingtops of the homeless
We want our name brand pants
Did we look in the middle at
Earth stained blood stained
Pus stained putrid smelling pants of
The homeless
Perhaps the homeless
Are the rich ones
They've been through it all
Earth stained blood stained
Pus stained putrid smelling life
Traveling in worn out shoes baggy pants hole threaden tops
They felt the sun beat
Down on their backs
The moon and stars
lighting the way
And newly acquired friends
Sleeping  on benches
They are rich with the
Love they share
Next time we say
We're broke
Perhaps we can put
Some.money  in a can
Or a donated coffee
Perhaps with extra
Cream and sugar
We will always have
The poor with us
So let's open the door
Let them through
With dignity
And perhaps a dollar
Or two