years given to darkness, living in
Alaska, neat ice at our furnace. so
bizarre, so slanted, until water
turns
murky.
tender Beijing eyes, soft agonizing
helium, sore-welted-flesh.
ideas are molten like souls in hell
rendering for soft repentance.
fingertips filled with hyssop, palms
sticky from sap, two strike a fire.
difficult cents, made a cheaper man,
it reminds of reaper philosophy:
a skeptic seems better than a cynic.
many have no place for that!
agile adolescence. palmed snowflakes.
falling everywhere. gentility in leased
souls.
of the mother, nature’s fertility,
passé orientation. to drift at
times,
with little to extract from, many
seemed
absorbed in thought.
remembered watching,
like a squirrel at a picnic, gracile
limbs.
never to approach, it seemed
forbidden,
for reprobate souls.
to look
beyond building barriers, with welts,
wetness of sores, wrangling among
us.
kenisic gesticulation, by a
treasured kiss, with too much
passing
to lock
a moment. depleted joy, a second
changing, so serious, so much
captivity.
exiled hearts, flutes, mini-souls.
jumping
just because, seeping into wishes,
embarrassment as our forlorn.
II
polyester shoes, wool shirts,
handed down
for three generations. superficial
kindness, essence isn’t important, strange
things took place in the house. danger
to having less, hungry souls become
cold,
cruel, or captured by incompleteness.
tailored dreams, chopping chunks
out,
because they frighten. some seem
to complain a lot, hurt, in every
circle,
it comes naturally.
never rethink about
it, nor listen closer, it just
passes
that way.
life is its imagination, some
cuisine,
something cooked, still raw; so
much to
give, exhaust, replenish. in part,
lead with appreciation, ghostly
transitions, aches on gold trails,
through deserts.
