Tryst/Triste

     Smiles faint
          watermarks,

     tears glint coy
          as morning dew.

     Threshold leaves
of tight lipped goodbyes
   and chaste lullabies
            shed.

Regina coeli, laetare

Corpus Domini Jesu Christi proficiat tibi in vitam aeternam

"Et voici dans l'air bleu..."

assis au bord du ciel splendide

Dallage

             

Hovelescense

             Behold
      broken windows
        toothless grin.

   Beams climb above
      crooked floors
   like fractured bone.
                           
                                      Death hails
                                      vigilant life
                                  with green blades
                                pricking floorboards.

 
       

Fall

Blue light
  eddies above,
soft, invoking.


         Ichor empties hearts,

                          making ground
                           we alight upon
                                  shine.


     Like a love's
       departure
 with close winged
         goodbye,

   
                             Angel take wing.


                      Austere skin pales wanting
                           warmth's velvet kiss       

Wake

            Gasp of sunlight strikes eyes.

                   No leg to stand on,
                  but everyone walks
                           to drive.

               Dawn,
short grass thirsts for light
         to accite dew
         as day shouts
  from more mouths than
                Set.

Americana, A Series of Invectives #1

  Alternative hair color 101:
Best a birthstone shade,
    the cheapest transcendental;
you're almost there.
 Rustic ingénue stripper,
  come with canned laughter
and praise chorus
   of aspiring masturbators.

Slake

to Rabi


      The scent, passion overcomes senses.
      Abandon grasps the reins of tresses.
 
                               
                      Inspired flesh
                   exhales lush musk
                      as lips imbibe
                        cola kisses.
       
         

The Breaks

 
A beautiful air is never content to bend blades of grass to breaking.
                      They give way, rhythmically,
                                   to the heart
           beating hooves that kick up cobblestones.

 Blades shine in the heart's vale.
           They are my own,
 Hard and sweet as cherries bit to the pit
                  on tongues.


Savor bit tongues.
Embrace crushed limbs.
Love choked breath.

       
            The shipwreck breaks beautiful on beholding eyes.

On Mistakes

               Give space,
                       indulge,
                  and know
                  effacement
                    must be
                   ruthless.

Woke Antic

Eclogue II

                             

                                     Klonopin Sun steeps exurbia in muted Gold

Legend

                                      Maps are flat out novels.

Mirror Proteus

City Limits

Unlimited light, billboards, and warehouses line highways. 

Skyline's beacons rise like sentinels. 

Its halo stretches overground and crowns skies. 

Suburban coquettes, organelles of the city,

Jena logic dissemination...

thesis of a billion endless syntheses. 

Progression allows no antithesis, no negation. 
Annulling frontiers as lit towers prop heaven.

Woolf, Women and War

"How else can we explain that amazing outburst in August 1914, when the daughters of educated  men...rushed into hospitals, some still attended by their maids, drove lorries, worked in fields and munition factories, and used all their immense stores of charm, of sympathy, to persuade young men that to fight was heroic, and that the wounded in battle deserved all her care and all her praise? The reason lies in that same education[for marriage]. So profound was her unconscious loathing for the education of the private house with its cruelty, its poverty, its hypocrisy, its immorality, its inanity that she would undertake any task however menial, exercise any fascination however fatal that enabled her to escape. Thus consciously she desired 'our splendid Empire'; unconsciously she desired our splendid war."

                                     
                          Virginia Woolf, Three Guineas.

A Glimmer Leaps the Thicket

"The Strange Hell of Beauty"