Disassemble your
Provocative journey.
We mourn in glory
As the moon jade storms our heart.
Passion a given- dreams of you from the past
Pleasure.  Remember life’s long answers.
Dull array of turning eyes that glisten when spoken too.
She plays a part of a sad little crucifier.
My friends are starving, for their minds
engulf curiosity.  People behind masks, picture shows of satire.
Bodies lie strewn across vast fields of ash and grotesque ritual.
Birds of flight pillage dormant clouds while peek through women’s bathrooms.
Sands are mine, grains and vines of wine; thanks for local smoke.
Barmaid’s concoction teases scrotums of unyielding fever.
Hoax, hex are what’s next in lands yet discovered.  An omen for a day, a minute or forever.
Wrenching stubborn intervals with brandy tunes and slobber residue.
Mixed tricks, flicks and wet dicks.  She’s rising to obedience.
Fowl jam stew; kettle hot steaming brew, when I loved you.
Pages fumbled for lost writings; a poet spoke in tongues of mastery, misery and magic.
Tantalizing friends, strangers and ghosts in hew and foggy lakes, where lovers gather for resolution.
No connections under blankets of  water.  Laughing children running free,
wildly panting and waiting for the day when feelings last a lifetime.
She seduced me in the fire.  I called to the tower porter in chance of chaos.
Determined legends, myths and a mime that spoke every language.
White fences, guitars, feathers in hair and mound of dirt graciously freeing
souls in a bucket of shit.  Court ants march in a transient display, while mongers
spit at freezing hands.  I’m not an albatross, I’m a frantic sunset with eyes that dance.
Touch me- and you’ll see. 

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