Thursday, October 31, 2024

We’re the darlings of the mainland scene. She is the queen of the main stage Romeo and Juliet. I drive the black double naught. The road circuits culminate at the airport. Or Camelot. Says the director to his female lead, “keep your focus to your “Romeo” (co-star). If I should crash somewhere around Imperial City. She won’t be waiting. She’ll be half way across the Unites States tour. It is the director she’s after. Much as she and I are together. The talk of the right now. We’re seen and it bring envy. The public relations is for the good but we must be good beyond the looks and the speed.

I’m on a circuit up the east coast. Expect she’s at the winner’s circle. Is when we get outside the cities and it’s a sprint. The kiss is hardly passionate but she just come from Los Angeles. Long as I win there she is front and center. Build excitement for the stages they’re naked. She’s back after her Head Man, headlining if I lost the race that day. Off the Mainland theatre. I’m in the audience for a time but I’m gone before the encore. Like I don’t see the leering, enthusiasm from the crowd.   

 I am lucky to be the object of your affection. It says so in print. She’s thinking about me at she performance. Her inspiration. Same as my ambition to win. I’m neck and neck at break neck speed. The black double naught. Every kiss become cover in all the publications on the mainland celebrity scene. She’ll never catch her man and I crash near Americus. With that she melt into the crowd. Into a car and driven away to rehearsal. With tinted windows and charm she build for stage and monologue. On lovers unrequited until she collapse. 

It is her exhibition to kill for. She start out on South Village. Expect to finish in the gardens of Patagonia. And the stage there. Work her way across the mainland. The Capitol city. Camelot the hottest spots. The wild west. Cliffside towns and woods. Vineyard of the God's. She is artist and ambitious. In a productions local authors. To see her name on the marquee. Promotion. Posters of her arrival. To men shot at her performance. She gets the best roles. Fit for any stage. She's got it spotlighted. They write it up all over the islands. All route isn't the same. The same stages. The writing is premium. The Boutique Theaters do a trade. They're bare skin and role of a life. Patagonia is black tie. The adrenaline palpable. Standing ovation.    

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Magnolia


I sing the Raven’s song

And sought the window.

They were gone.

 

I wanted simple and sweet.

Leave it to the blackbird

And high priest.

Eyes to the heavens

But door through

Which comfort comes.

 

Subtle but subtle trump.

Body wants what it wants.

Sing Raven song

In hopes I’d sight just once.


 

I Am Cain

Man the God’s made.

Regardless of best

Without brother or bond.

The fates back

Whence they came.

Search, sign

Of changing tides.

I am Cain.

 

Man of affection.

Man of books.

I am a man

Gentle spook.

At my best

Love reveals itself.

Fates back

Whence they came.

 

I am Cain.

A man of trades.

Hours of toil

And yeoman’s wage.

Barely respect or expect

Brother or bond.

At my best

Love reveal itself. Fates back

Whence they came.


See The Boy

See the boy on the walk.

Old Irving Park.
Towards the waterfront.

By the carload bring

Patrons from uptown.

With my bags of goods

Sheffield street.

 

See the boy in the building.

He follows me.

See the boy in the building

When solitude is bothersome.

See the boy is harmless.

His tomfoolery no threat.

Sheffield street

Sheffield House annexed.

 

See the boy Broadway street.

It crosses Halsted.

Galleries and gardens.

His appraisal my modesty.

Modest means no one comes.

See the boy when

Solitude is bothersome.


Dreamer

Dreamer of dreams.

Grand and exotic.

Provenance the effect

On it’s poor subject.

Ever prescient my stolid gaze.

 Carnival of queer disinhibited color.

Predilection and paradox.

Strange seas and alleys dark.

Talk of lions and catamount.

Stalk the streets behest of the crown.

Dreamer of dreams,

otherwise vacant bed.

A body of water.

Pool of sweat.

Sheen of slaver

lines unsaid.

Discern my antagonist

and compatriot.

Therein my partisan

and advocate.

Dreams grand and exotic.

Provenance the effect

on its poor subject.


 

South Village, Providence Island

Collective Consensus:

Bad actors.

The Kings men

as gendarme.

Assassin in the building.

 

Family business

this murder.

The duo for their part

as if in their boudoir.

By their encore men

meet their demise.

Would they get out

of the country alive?

 

Tempestuous waters

near theater doors.

Put it to the spotlight

without cover.

Do the same to my lover.

Collective consensus:

bad actors.

The Kings men

as Gendarme.

Assassin in the building.


Romanticism

Fools gold.

An epitaph on

Grave marker.

Says you’re a man of means

Or a lesson for learning’.

Imperfect being

The martyr in me.

Knows nothing more than

Pushing pen.

Lonely prose.

Like writing my name.

Sounds pretty

From her mouth.

Has she interest in uttering?

Her brothers make game of it.

Thin Skin.

 

Write the equivalence

Of ancient text.

Think long and hard

You put name to the boy.

Likely with his name

To a movement.

How sweet her interest

In treating the beast.

 

Romantics

With their tea light candles

Burned to nil.
Poignant still.

The unexplained life is merciful.


 

Say It Like You Mean It

Your stiff chin

And your haughty pointing.

If you don’t mean a word of it

Fall on your poniard.

There is privilege involved.

 

Your secrets spread

Like smoke signal.

Thrill seekers have

The building surrounded.

The lady of the house set loose

The hounds in the morning.

Your stiff chin when they’re

Picking at your clothing.

If no feel for it

Fall on your poniard.

There’s privilege involved.


The walk from the university

About a mile.

Then to the cellar.

Politics aside.

The despair is thicker

Than expected

Whichever would suffer me

I tell the keeper,

“set one of your ladies…”

 

The town square.

The bats in the courthouse belfry.

Reincarnate.

Believe the fellow had

Something to it.

Top of the town.

 

There is always the park.

She shutter at the thought

Of crossing it without escort.

Someone to call on.

Truth is she’s the one I want.

Tell the keeper,

“set one of your ladies beside me

What it cost.”

 

Despair is thicker than expected.

An interminable mist.

Move about it as if an

Inevitable condition.

There is wicked around.

See their footprints towards town square.

Mad dash past the courthouse

See our way clear.


 

South Village, Providence Island.

Gem of the theater scene.

Mater raconteur.

And so his narratives

Grace the stage.

They’re true events

Whether he was party to

Or witness.

What it is to be your muse.

 

Their rapacity for it.

Plausible experience.

Ravenous applause.

The capacity for rapt audience.

Always in character .

The waters an angry black.

All the wit he could use.

All of the passion

And the rapacity for it.

What it is to be his muse.

 

Off the southwest coast.

The sounds of merry making

Spill out onto the water .

The Brandywine Mountains.

Backdrop.

 

The venerable venue.

The Royals attend performances.

Tomes written about them.

 

Tonight’s story:

They stand like prize fighters.

In a room.

Their wear is Spartan.

With little dialog.

Plays out with aplomb.

It’s disgusting display.

Acted as written

There is blood.


Stink

Drop your eyes to the

Worn carpeted floors.

Thick and it’d been there

Absorbing the stench of

natural selection.

A beasts reverence and

likewise disgust.

Love him at your peril.

Mary Ann knows and

she goes to meet him.

 

Outside a building.

Sometimes he doesn’t show.

The audacity of it.

No letting go.

 

The stink on everything.

Flowers even

She brings.

Soured on waiting.

There’s  a small stream.

A small bridge and trees.

The stink on the breeze.

A beasts reverence

And likewise disgust.

Found a lover

Then all is not lost.


Streets Of Providence

I maintain

Hero and villain

One and the same.

Streets of Providence.

Fever and blood.

Alchemist.

Embers spit

And celebration of it.

Rogues seek

Who see

Beyond beast.

Savage noir.

Raven.

 

Raise your pistol.

Riches of Royals

And runabouts.

Cliff to vineyard.

Woodland

to Water Street

and the gardens.

Vamp and siren.

I maintain

One and the same.


Lion

Her head to

The window

She stay

In the light.

“There are lion

in the streets.”

 

It’s 3 a.m.

Stretched

To five feet.

 

“There are lion

In the streets.”

Her eyes have

Not opened up.

 

“And I’ve fought

With them and

Still they come.”

I send her in the streets

I have no contraception.


A time of

All measures.

Fewer allies.

Fewer pleasures.

 

Of a mind for love.

Find someone

From within.

I’m not particular.

 

The way you

navigate the place.

Naught but spend

The day in bed.


(I Could) Eat You Alive

The lamb is tender.

The dressing piquant.

She will have basmati rice.

The dressmaker is

World famous.

Sinister or sweet.

I could eat you alive.

 

By the day get

more eloquent.

Suffer a fellow

His whim.

Gifts elaborate

All the more.

It come with

the house wine.

 

The dressmaker

is world famous.

Leafy greens.

Tomato  basil.

Sinister or sweet

Wipe away memory of it.

A damp cloth.

Upper floor lavatory.

I could eat you alive.


Grand Apartments, Providence

Built turn of the century.

Black doors.

Imagine the horrors.

There are spirits

In the tower.

Keep to a particular

Level of isolation.

The current occupant

And the woman before.

 

It is the violence.

The noise outside.

The silence.

The spooks inside.

Trip over them

To get a breath.

 

The lift bring us to our

Individual floor.

Black doors.

A companion.

Among the vampires.

Festivals to some deity.

When your quarry leaves

Could have been a week or weekend.

However long it takes to conceive.

 

The things she’s seen.

Things to raise hairs.

I can imagine where

The bed had been.

A chair to entertain guests.

If it isn’t bedbugs

It is the specters.

The loneliness.

If they would only stay

Then she comes to her senses

And moved away.

When finally her quarry leave

Could have been weeks or weekend.

However long it takes to conceive.


Bedlamite

Street front restaurant

And salons.

The boulevard heavy heady

With heavy souls.

I am the Bedlamite.

Hearty Boys on hand.

 

I’d been inside the establishment.

I send my man ahead.

My fame goes further than

What lineage could.

The girl for the greater good.

 

A sweeter creature

The Gods could not make.

By dawn the

Conflagration is over.

The search for survivors

Into night.

The mother pleads for the girl.

The gods have their spite.

 

“Send the girl outside.”

Chased from the east

And Nashua Point settled.

A grand estate

At the back of it a cliff

A rugged road into the city

And yet traverse it.

I am the Bedlamite.

 

It’s been a matter of months.

My infamy goes further

Than lineage could.

The girl for the greater good.

Back and forth with baskets of food.

Anyone instead

I send my man ahead.

“Send the girl outside.”

Matters not about the gunmen.

Dawn the conflagration is over.

The search for survivors into the night.

The High Priest(ess) pleads for the girl.

The Gods have their spite.


White Dot An Ebony Canvas

The elder girl says

It’s natural.

When the adrenaline

Dies down

All fall down.

White dot.

A black background.

 

I am the night’s regent.

The very reason

The discord in the streets.

Keep it beyond the intended hour.

Until the candelabra

Burns out.

 

The elder girl

Says it’s natural.

The adrenaline

Dies down

All fall down.

It is at the lady’s

suggestion.

And spare not

The vigor that makes for

Such art.

White dots

On ebony canvas.


Kindness Of Strangers

Names and places

Are changed

For the innocent

As yet there are none.

Speak of it and

Make I clarion.

This is my bent.

 

Names and places

Have been changed

For the innocent.

It is said is in the eyes

Of the beholder.

 

Speak to it and

make it clarion.

It was sweet when

We held hands

And lie close.

Am I your quarry

Or your host?

Am I your star or ghost?

What you give away

Then take back.

There is hardly life

After that.

 

Names of places

And state of mind.

Kindness of strangers.


Little Woman

The little woman

And for the games

Forsake her boys.

There is wine and wiser

Than her five feet.

Her dress cast about

As light material.

 

Forsake her boys

And concubine.

The further north

Contact will stiffen

her back.

Spread Eagle and

all that.

 

Little woman

She’s for the games

Of chance and chess.

Cast about her dress

As light material.

Make up for winter

And its lifelessness.

There are games of cards

And dice.

Festival to Dionysus.

There is wine and

wiser than her five feet.

The further north

The contact will stiffen

her back.


 

I didn’t start it

I didn’t start it

But see it better than

Death or ridiculous end.

Maters words do

What they should.

I read them then suicide.

 

I could’ve been good for something.

Sprinkle arsenic on my limes.

Roll it into my cigarettes.

I used to be good for good times.

 

Covetous in wanting

Deeper than it cut.

Put that in the book.

A feeling for morphine dreams.

I’m good for it the good doctor.

Suicide when I write the book.


 

When The Lights Go Out.

What began in the summer

It was the bloom all the sudden.

Swoon and unsubtle coo.

And do when the lights go out.

 

Activity around me at the center.

The flurry of limbs and I could

Be queen of Adams street.

Back road drivers

When the city is aflame

and the seas rise up.

See the circuit and

word gets around.

Talk of it on the sidewalk.

When they stalk the streets

At sun down.

 

Otherwise I am about the

Grand apartments.

The nights they tread.

When the lights go out

I am his pet.

 

The tower and its bowels

The neighborhood

And its redeemers.

Desperados in the streets.

In the evenings when

The hatred be heeded.

Comforts are few.

Could be hours before

the animal is through.

 

What begun in winter

Lion in the streets.

Beat the drum slowly

She is prone.

Hindquarters thick.

Talk of it on the sidewalks.

Revelry to it.

Give a man a handful

And a bloom all the sudden.

And do when the lights go out.

 

 

Ragamuffin 


Campaign of a fashion.

She one up the notion she is common.

Wishing and waiting flutter,

her most fetching,

model confidant.

 

Making for patch of life as ragamuffin.

Test of tensile strength.

An enlightened urban uncivilized

untethered Phenom.

The girl is sycophant until the ask is great.

 

Come little man with scented vials.

You arrive to nocturne.

She cut a figure strange days and odd years.

A happy ending and Girl Friday.

 

Summer brought to crescendo.

A union of abstract rebellion.

Budding Lolita.

Stillness of the morning

speak in a whisper giving thanks.

Your approval is moving.


I get the spoils and what 

sequential from the layers.

Parting all there is to 

mix in the secretion.

Tinge of romance

and in exchange chivalrous.

invite me play nice.

 

They fancy opportunist.

Where he is and aint 

and up in arms.

She’s perfectly turned.

A trope I can impress on the pose 

as much as one man. 

 

I scrubbed the lonely from the place.

Still musk of it.

This garden is nightmare.

 

She sew impressed,

Sound of laughter. Music. 

Her most fetching. 

 

 

The arena is supine.

Charged element spoke to life.

Stages of admiration 

and denial run to frenzy.

I’m head and shoulders.

 

It turn burlesque.

A jagged fond.

Appreciate the macabre.

Lonely grow into conviction.

Repeat acts of wild 

in your dynamism.

 

Thrill of congress.

Age and time.

Affection and touch.

Kindness and light.

The longer the lonely

the loss of self.

Guided hand and reverence.  

The aftermath it kills. 

 

Thrill in the foreboding

Magnetism to meekest of them. 

Is prescient which fright

your chest heaving.

To the sporting of them

I am the bane of the citizenry.

The environs rake and hiss false progressives

when summer swing of festival.

The boys are wilding.

 

Foresee I’m match with her pedigree.

Her high mind and the degrade to my face.

A slow moan to shriek of octave.

 

The lonely it echo.

A smile affable to baring teeth.

The grin is sardonic and my humble waning.

Bouquet of fatigue, sweat.

When it turn and eventual succumb.

The R.E.M. is real.

The R.E.M. I feel everything.

There is fete of which the fright commence.

It is point of order the nubile.


I’m living like she’s coming and I’ll be ready.

With clean sheets. Blankets.

Bath towel and wash cloth.

A chessboard.

Wine glasses.

Music. Poetry.

The bed will be warm the morning after.

The breakfast filling.

We start the day with the sun.

The sweet song of birds.

Sight of squirrels on rooftops.

An oasis from your world. 

I’m the man for this cipher.

Make time for me and your cellars filled with life.

Imagine pain is fashion.

Tell her sister siren.

Cause Celebre.

There logic in the role.

I charge from the head.

Before the source, was sound.

 

A garden for everyone.

To the house I’m most likely.

I trade on third eye.

She’s tossed in the quick.

Impassioned guile and repeat.

She’s ample and warm.

Once more rollicking.

Given wear and when.

The order she trade on.

She want from the all day parade of the macabre.

The isolation and panic therein.

 

Social science of the modern rogue, I’m ordained.

One night of festival into nights of game bird.

The level of ours beyond material.

She count these months as vital.

A shared effort and sport.

The culmination of the nightmare.

Just the beast she need as guide into

the wicked and the potential end.

The all-day rain. 

Muster affection in the strange.

Call for strange put forth.

 

The strange consummate

and the hour make the seek the more epic.

She in pose contort the both of them.

She draw from him in master stroke.

I am all the grit, almost volcanic.

The iconic parkway and the market.

And bewitch that cover the lack of humanity.

The stop and stare kind of hunger

distinct that wash over the senses.

Purveyors of fat on parade.

Account the strange in electricity.

Cessation of graces.

The craven what will, loose of the feminine.


All or nothing in one

glance you be mine.

Appreciate the worldly female.

She push forth with the raw bit.

A world of girls.                                                                                                                                

Vineyard with bed of roses.

 

They’re in and out 

barefoot and light wear.

My smile sardonic

and she’ll never forget

thrill in the foreboding.

The lonely is dark.

 

I am the iteration of Bedlam.

Fool hardy.

Phobia and love in one man.

I’ve always been ugly.

I am these nights one

space to another.

Supine in pain.

 

Trade on that some night

your lonesome as mine.

Depth of the curious.

And the follies.

They drink and fight to pen

the death of the heroine.


What for a man but her everything?

The Seraphic, she’s tall tales.

Approach the killing as first love.

Complimentary awe of bird of prey.

She present the spectrum

and you feel some way.

 

When it was hers to proffer,

testimonial ripple.

She’s demonstrative.

A study in excess

the night is fluid.

 

The romantic as in idealist

make you sycophant.

The sometimes damsel.

The best of assets.

 

What filter in the story of the villain.

Machinations move mountains.

The standard the ---- mind.

The sun rise on the vessel

and water into wine.

 

The rub is conviction.

The lure fresh face.

A thing to effort.

I carry a yen.


The Keeper

If not maiden intended,

maiden in waiting.

Word to the Matriarch,

my return at dark.

I send my man for her things.

 

The disjointed spite the Bedlamite.

I covet the cover of clouds.

Talk of mad seasons,

the ides of which to fear.

As to my letters,

commonality in my ken.

Her words do what they should.

I suicide..

 

Morphine dreams little women.

There is wine and dress 

cast about as light material.

Cards and dice until 

the adrenaline dies down.

What cleave to us fall down.

 

Her exhalation sanguine.

Wind filter cool to the skin.

A beast reverence and disgust.

It is a scene, apt pupil.

Come from it benign until it don’t.

 

The cuckold give her direction.

The stink of ambition 

the sculpted.

The narrows for the 

damnable consumption.


I’m the want she want.

To everything your defiance.

A poets lot ceaseless.

She tribute to missive

she give life to. 

Lord over it all 

conventional heterosexual.

As she sex pot.

 

This commonality linger for longer.

Linen and little else.

The lines defined and varied woman.

In some quarters lauded charm alarm.

I’m just the wicked goose bump her skin.

Full lips and jinx.

 

The genesis the, to-do.

The pliant and flamboyant.

Prize in your diary.

Want for you erotic.

 

A mutual that make it art.

In this we’re candid.

Love is pestilence but timely

act of kindness.

Once in motion change

in social grace form consent.

 

Local wine. Local trick.

It don’t go but spit on it.

The rowdy in the house.

Virtue weaponized.

His way unrefined.

The surge in line 

with happenstance.

The frighten she delight in.


We afternoon as lovers.

I am with cherubim

and the gallery of which she mimic.

The Bedlamite.

I am stranger to the order.

They Look to blame.

They cannot explain and

need not ceremony cross the threshold.

 

Seek love in the right light.

Furtherance the good life.

A kiss and with that we endeavor.

The measurable excess.

Trust I”m incorrigible.

 

I remember every then on.

Dream this over the top.

Age of inquisitive intimates.

The wind pick up as the cloud burst of a dream.

Gender roles in our frequence.

With that in motion one more in the fold.

 

 A fashion of triumph.

The power of ten.  

Enter the garden the vainglorious

live for the trick.

You keep your eyes for wolves.

Give him his win.

I want to be let.

Is discovery darling.

 

She determined ethereal.

My irregular her betterment.

I’m as thirsty as in wonder.

Just the age to by stand the will and won’t.


The intermittent optimist.

What boundaries ain’t bound.

Vanity she couldn’t sate is sex you’re after.

A tease of goods.

You’re comfortable in robes.

Alight the intimate, the loyal foil.

I want un-orthodox.

A warmth dream lover.

Sunday come calling.

Streets is wet and windy.

There always roles.

See your mind from cuckold.

Figures barefoot in the reeds. 


Companion is currency.

My fidelity drive by winter.

The weapon of your spark

I’ve felt the charms her disparate.

She fancy me she hadn’t thought but let me.

Tinge of romance and I’m obliged.

 

How chivalrous she don’t fight me invite me.

I’ve tapped wavelength.

Cast bigger shadow than subsequent.

She’s pure velvet. 

The place is for stage.

Run about my orbit, this is wonderland.

Companion in space.

Offer self and take same time.

She love hard given to direct her and is torrid.

Congregants of a mind untold unpredictable

who better and why? 

 

Tug of serotonin measure increment.

To everything your weird science.

Wind whip of which swirl of sentiment.

Bedlam in the midst.

Macabre and dreadnaught. 

She is fury, now kitsch. She persist.

She give life to introspect.

The horror of hunger,

grasping best they could.

A cadre enlightened unconventional heterosexual.

Thrill to death.

Dress is meaning and beneath that is grimace.

The lonely is now categorical.

She charm the thing.

The egoist champion your profile.


I and my partisan

trip the light mind bending

Over the shoulder euphoria.

Magic man my exotic notes.

Day dream of you wild stylized.

 

Material notion of success

part of the tome.

The body unencumbered.

 

Bide that front of mind.

The need prescient

lost on me. 

The context a dear figure.


Rain accelerate the day on.

Is classic dark days.

Rain is old bones lover.

Siren in wanting.

Suffer dullards finger her

threadbare garments.

 

Hers leavings hold you to me.

Is cold and stark but good.

Muddy water

run aground.

Inner thigh wolven.

She is handsome

and well settled 

the little room.

Bed and books.

Immerse in poetry.

 

The closeness of the room.

Flag of the resistance.

All around menace

Bedlam.

Urban legend.

Her’s melancholia about me

Is for her life this why.

 

I am established all the

places you go.

All amenities afforded.

With yours coloring

I’d spoil you through.

 

Period dress they found her

render her prone.

I press the hallway 

when mania.

 

I’m nights recounting such.

Creep the Grand Tower.

Mine inelegant win her over.

I have her’s confidence and

times is close quarters. 

 

Yon light from the Gods 

as we in the beat.

A pulse made craven.

Low light and appearance 

walking on air.

 

Find a bard and you give over.

You're that change all 

stricture love.

Her figure timeless. 

It come to a head.

 

The rain drag the window.

Leave to me sentiment.

The skies are such color.

Pure exotic of a mind.

She damsel in straits 

assume is any moment.

 

Whatever tread she is excited.

She craven as I.

All the muster from youth.

Presume you same.

I’m which you’re entitle.

Your familiar what end?


 

Algorithm

Your overture about wine

and this fellow likes wine

and the conversation becomes

what is your favorite wine?

And we match over wine.

 

I’m outside your sphere

but for the algorithm.

One petty or another.

How smart you are.

Just that quick unmatched. 

I haven’t chariot 

or wage for your grace.


 

Save Yourself 

All the wonder loosed

on strong wine.

Keep your grimace throughout.  

The eventual macabre compel

her spree was power given to me.

None encumbrance

short pulling hair.

 

I’m Mad Hatter.

Let her tell it,

Is guile we like this.

I’m heavy weight 

ain't outdone.

Bit of carouse

I tear her gown.

Run out in the 

garden without robe.

Hold hope the lonely pass.

 

The fates are, 

there is pain.

She’s fun and games

like prize is her life.

 

I presume upon yours.

I’m willing partner all things.

I’m cause how it was.

Elder girl put me on it.

All the best ritual.

Mine is sea side death spiral.

Inestimable ardor great shakes.


These days of melancholy.                          

Immerse in the wash of skin.                                                                                                       

Your begin and end.                                                                                                                       

The air is charged and we’re in unison.

 

There citadel for this.

Ruins by now.

Old soul no doubt.

"I love like this,"

Spoke the bard and the

subsequent bacchanal.

The sudden end is rain.

 

The romanticism. 

The sardonic.

The new to do 

and I’ve been it.

Make her a 

fixture for a spin.

The wash of the morning.

Your breath on my neck.

She’s head to toe 

press of flesh.

 

She sweep in like 

reverence. 

All the more 

the structure sway.

second wind. 


Time for us now when time 

you don’t minding.

For this we’re friends.

 

The life of which 

your best life

and shot in the dark 

make next wife.

I’m never more eligible.

They could imagine.

 

You are who you was, love.

The morning after 

shuffle between us.

Life of which 

is your best life.

There is life.


The eye is over and

hardly breathe.

I’m like I was and

she grave towards me.

The visions prescient.

 

There is lumber and

precious metals.

Tourism.

Wealthy archipelago.

Tropical Eden

divided loyalty.

The heavy handed Banton

the voyeur of Franco.

Siren and vamp.

 

Who benefit is fickle 

would favor

what I’m capable

until I’m not.

Fall from grace as to

embrace it fully. 


You dress for me 

once in her life.

I know with her shoulders.

You want used to me.

All the role play.

Eyes wide yours 

tell tale prerogative.

I’m disparate wretch.

 

General alarm: 

there will be blood.

The pall of the metropolitan

is deep and wide.

Sun light dust. Flies.

How now consecutive hours.

I know with her shoulders.

 

Hardly creature comforts.

Her leavings 

on the arena.

I bird dog her 

when the games up. 

Mutual tension apt flesh. 


I Know You

I know you where and when.

Your brash and hands on.

Meanwhile what it feel like?

With the music and the lights.

She look like she should be one.

As the music keep on.

Feed the need to feed on.

 

Happens I’m marked from jump.

Suppose she suppose

I’m not alone.

Like she entitle

I’m her bone.

 

What it feel like

with the mood and the hype.

The fight or flight.

The when and where and times.

Hands on.

Your hands they press your

close to the vest. 

Some wicked she endure 

and keep her virgin.


Mad Season

I still write letters.

Talk of mad seasons.

The ides of which

To fear the tides.

When she’s had enough

A stern response.

A woman of her station.

 

I take to her dreams.

Preferably a place

Pleasing to the both of us.

A slight disruption

In your dress.

 

A sibling in her stead.

Fly in and out again.

The elder girl.

As to my letters

The younger kin

She finds commonality

In my ken.

It is the middle girl

The pick of the litter.

 

I still write letters.

Talk of seasons mad.

And the leaves cast about

The house depictions in the raw.

Runabouts. When she’s

Had enough a stern response.

A woman of her station.

A sibling in her stead.


 

City Of Sun

City of sun

North by northwest.

It takes money

To make money.

Even a paupers nest.

City of sun but

Shooters at night.

Lightning and flood.

City sentimentalists

Up in arms.

The warring tribes.

Triage in the parks.

 

99 percenters go without.

Shout down the King’s men.

Before they set upon them.

I covet the covers of clouds.

Cool my ardor through.

For you my ardor.

 

City of whirlwinds

And golden coasts.

City of segregates

Where unwanted

I don’t go.

Beg borrow and steal

To be at my best.

It takes money

To make money.

Even a paupers nest.

 

Or rather poach as

A matter of pride.

My meager wages

You’re unsatisfied.

Disenchanted then

What is a city without

Like me?

Due comfort is unlikely.


Bad Men

There are bad men

In the building.

Pistol whipping.

In through the back door.

They come out in gowns

After the uproar.

There are bad men.

Her things have

Been tampered with.

Rifle through

Package and parcel.

Letters well wishing

And cash gifts.

Bad men about

Their ill will.

There’s still a drought.

Bring them from their district.

Ignore the counsel

Of your escort

And walk the gauntlet.


Driver

When the seas rise up.

The ides of the season.

Lions in the streets

And the grinding of bones.

Venture into the heart of it.

The conflagration

Through Albemarle.

The valley is burning.

Couple up as the path

Of the storm long quoted.

Put the city behind us

Drive fast.


 Summer Skin

There I am

My summer skin

The winter bore.

Time again

Like time before.

That time again

I crease your door.

Mine is love

But promise nothing.

 

My arrival, suffer my sight.

As the heavens dispense

That mine is love

But promise nothing.

 

What the winter bore

Corpuscle taut.

What started ’19 was not

At the end of a gun.

Seasons with her schisms.

Catch her with an audience

The environment stays hot.


Native Tongue

No shame in it.

Pick myself up

Without word for it

In native tongue.

If not the maiden intended

A maiden in waiting.

No shame in it.

 

Word to the Matriarch.

“I will return at dark.

Then send my man

In the morning for her things.”

If not the maiden intended

A maiden in waiting.”

 

The High Priests say

No word comes

A tacit admission.

 

The uprising.

The disjointed

Nashua Point.

And the like minded

Put fire to the Bedlamite

That even the Queen speaks

Ill of her son.

Without word for it

In native tongue.


Letters

Worthy of letters

Of my deportment.

Proper speak.

Not black enough

But too much to be useful.

Who am I to be loyal to?

Certainly no member

Of the crown.

I will let you down.

Something of me not yet cold.

This talk of lovers and bards.

His verse are fancy words.

Hardly those of legend.

Of better men.

Restless and stark.

Common versus remarkable.

Who am I to be loyal to?

Certainly no member of the crown.

I will let you down.


Tramp

Once inside

Her inner tramp.

Low light

And space enough.

Greeted by a cross wind

From the portico.

The appearance

Of walking on air.

The screen door

Between them.

Heavy on the back stairs.

The air with its redolence.

Lamb.


Son

She’s as black as coal

And taste just so.

Never much in stature

And disregard.

The walls have ears.

 

Have no fear for future days.

Or the sins of the father

Visited upon the son.

Skin as black as coal

And her ways just so.

Not one for preening.

Disregard for the

walls have ears.

Have no fear for future years.

 

It is the son the one

You remember not.

Says he loved a girl

Then she was gone.

Made that threat to me once.

Beg your pardon

You fancy is showing.


 

A Thousand Kisses Deep

A thousand kisses deep

And later in the evening.

Wonder how she can sleep?

Her exhalation sanguine.

Her eyelids aflutter.

Her hearts break

Won’t accept another.

 

A thousand kisses deep

A thousand and one.

Whatever cleaves to us

Has fallen down.

White light bright

through curtains.

Catching wind to filter

The cool to our skin.

A thousand kisses deep

And one for abdication.


 

The radiator roars

A dragon.

Loud and angry.

The radiator is old

as the building is old.

The windows rattling.

The wind its growl.

At once very hot

and then cold.

I have notions of

entertaining a woman.

I have heard laughter

in the building.

At times derisive.

Otherwise the only sound

is the leviathan.

The creature is old

as the building.

At once very hot

then cold.

I have notions on

loving a woman

I have seen it

in the streets but she wont

come home with me.

The creature is old

as the building.

At once very hot

then cold.

 

  

We’re the darlings of the mainland scene. She is the queen of the main stage Romeo and Juliet. I drive the black double naught. The road cir...