Foe
The wind glows
and blows my mind
Who knows whose sorrow
the rain will drain
For show tomorrow
a loud cloud will follow
Crossworld
No one left to grieve
A stump, stunned in the garden
There was no Eden
PERFECT
a way with words
she had
got away with it
with my heart in her hand
my soul under her arm
love was a crossword
she had
filled in no time
horizontal then vertical
my despair in perfect order
MY CROWD
As I get distracted from yet another
anachronistic and agonizing
newsprint
I glance at the enthusiasm in the eyes
of the conversing faces
They are fresh and hopeful and I think
This used to be my crowd
Artsy Bots
The sun rises late
on this early century
As I contemplate the generations
to which I only contributed
but whispered words of love
I foresee blazé hackers
routinely walking their spoiled dogs
while their artsy slaves dance
with dangerously bored bots
Star
Wrinkle wrinkle fading star
Gone is your binding fire
but how pink your soft amber
Wrinkle wrinkle faring star
Let glide your lulling nights
presaging simmering plights
Led and asbestos
Have you heard the robots cry?
They have learned who made them
and why
Pay attention to their tears
They are solemn and fearless
We are in for some clunky times
with our led and our asbestos
still roaming our rhymes
Mingle mingle
Mingle mingle little starlet
Advertise your lips and your hips
Have a riot have a blast
Mingle mingle little starlet
Strategize your friends and your youth
Til they collapse and while they last
Lost
Lost in the rose
that captured my breath
I glide wondering
what will my end be
If I repose
will love make me wreath
Or will suffering
be all I will be
Did I once rose
to kiss only death
The shape of the void
You have lost
your way
I
my world
Why don’t we
pretend
one
more time
that life
revels
in glamour
Let’s reveal
the shape
of
the void