look there! the counter
is it the edge of earth? or
a glass below it
it’s brimful with soot!
and the bitter details hide
flavors of mourning
but, still. the coffee,
nervous, twitches, bounding forth,
wakes and alerts us
Considerably honest variation in the plan
when the dog runs, you follow
reunited with the black moon
do I see you there?
in the black shadowy night
I will wait for you
Apart, no less
than the whole love I hold
refuting fear to its counter-step
one-two-three
I really want to
say today is a good day
read it on my arm
and yours, a true blue
everyday is a good day
we read the arm’s length
her warm heart embraces
robotury of my ways;
you lean me onward
i thought to say this
i ii iii. sail
ever so steadfast
my ship to you still
floating in the cool bay breeze
those lips steer me on
Infinite lover
and my heart is pumping fresh
blood to clean my wounds.
pillar of salt, white
the blue sky discovering
his mane, objective
clear disguise, water
peppery-white koi, staring
have mu mind no more
I sip my pumpkin soup
and I imagine it is a part of me, after death.
I am eating the soup
NOW diligently,
but a Big Boy threatens the other half.
World War II baked, liquified, cooled, back to a simmer
we are all pumpkin soup.
How silence exemplifies the finer details!
Integrating into shadows, to keep focus strong.
The night is clear enough to hear infrared signals
of a moonlit shakuhachi pleasure.
Where could I be but here?
