Black and red puerperal stains
Groans throughout and scutter
Through the foliage
An endearing plea
For your opinion;
A simple accusation of
Tie me to a masthead
Beat a pair of strokes from oars in ships
Your waxen dripping earlobes
what do you speak
intentions what they should have been
were not
In the winter Christmas was a celebration
Celebrated somewhere else.
Ellery ran wild with the dogs and Miriam
I had a conversation and the act
was likened to a state of pennies
gleaming in the water nimbly in a stream
And well if you contract an insoluble solution
Reverberating chords come nagging
And all again is well.
It’s not even a work of art.
Sanguine tresses tumble; it’s
Oblivion cathected to a libidinal
She watched the record on the turntable,
April evening seeps into afternoon;
Time marches relentlessly in circles,
The bass sang Mephistopheles—
Unerring—a whimsical production
Woven by the golem,
Through the patches of a spoiled kingdom
Nestled in a spoiled earth
Counting out the hours you have wasted
This is quite a feat, to watch my eyes
Decay into a pompous guise—
It is unwise.
That will I never see another face
Insufferable is a wishful dream.
I am a pilgrim climbing up a wall.
She saw you standing in the doorway.
The practicality is wasted, must you know,
And all else stands aside enchanted,
That is an accomplishment,
To waltz into a caveat…
What are we expecting?
I have lost and I have found it,
Drowning in the vein of Juliets and pirouettes,
A love emerges without meeting,
Of late I’ve taken her through certain incapacitated streets,
A subway ride through alleys—beggars scavenge on their knees,
Her lacquered boots upon the slippery streets,
A sapphire-studded ring
to line a finger delicate,
Bombardments taciturn and rude,
I would remember the repetitions,
Of a comedy neglected in five or six declensions;
A quartet of parts and these pernicious words.
A lonely settled street, woollen sweaters
Navy blue and eyes a steely umber brown
Ceramic cup and cappuccinoed voices