girls don't go for nietzche puns.

the world is tiredly aping you;
i've sifted through alphabets
finding little to salvage.
meanwhile the scent of pine
grows too strong to bear,
and memory overwhelms the
pearl necklace you helped forge;

and the elephants sang
alone, resolutely
(and nobody heard but me)

i heard the far-off ghost ( Read more... )

last year i was sleepless too, for the same reasons ( Read more... )

           gentle
           fingers
           of
          morning,

(
  in halfdream i
  lay my chin in
  between your n
  eck & shoulder
  , just to peek
  at what you're
         reading
                )

in eyes reclined
    into the formidable
     s i l e n c e   of

your hair,

i miss the
         songs of
         ( Read more... )

you still-life bowl ( Read more... )

with a porkpie django wink
his thin moustache wailed over
that pinstripe of clarinet
, longtangly thumbs bruising
the writhing ghostly bass
piano coming ; slow into forte
raspy ginger telltale groan
of slowly lost gin midnight

ah bon, i said
as softly somewhere
the beguine began

c'mon pilgrim, here are the ( Read more... )

& if darling i dare to touch with
ever softly the blue mind of my

little brown eye (forgive me),
the subtle irony is this:

upon yours it songfully alighted
& whispered our hesitant duet;

as waltzing we crownedly sat,
vague monarchs on a driftwood throne.

rack crassining (and then again ( Read more... )