Unpremeditated, just a reflexive blink,
Was not as startled as the glitter of grime
Against the sun-streaked light.
...
While they sleep the unmolested
Before the nth dilapidated
Token, bidden, chosen, broken hymen, stalking semen
Men for women
...
Our meeting was a secret
At the same time never met
You heard me sing
I heard you talk
...
let me shed the hate
that ill applies to anger although consummate
unluckily discerned by trinity and bred
by esoteric tragedies and irregular neglect
...
You may be the lowliest
as long as you ache and your heart longs
or the eldest fool for love
or from a planet heretofore unknown
...
We slumber silently. Muting
speech
and snoring noiselessly.
Consciously. Careful not to
...
It was a drop
in Dave Gibbon's bucket
like the original light
in Alan Moore's head
...
This is the way to roll 'em
Break a chip of the brown block
(Not necessarily old, although age makes a diff)
...
Tentatively
Darkness describes a chill
Framed in invisible mist
The blur awakening to a whisper
...
He always has something to say
something incoherent interminable intolerable to say
even if you spoke to no one
in particular
...
Yonder the floodlights exude a cheerless glow
drowned desperately by screaming football enthusiasts
they run for the ball
ignoring a confetti of dust
...
He sits by the cliff
Sheltered by the cold breeze
Finding its company
In his bones
...
It was yesterday - an infinity of joy
However finite as the phase -
When the truth of the tense
Gave birth to another
...
I celebrated my sixtieth centenary twice. On October 25, at a party thrown by my wonder of a wife, and on the actual day, October 28. Both bashes were made highly successful by the presence of friends who shared our blessings and the attendant bliss.)
War
Unpremeditated, just a reflexive blink,
Was not as startled as the glitter of grime
Against the sun-streaked light.
The idea of a memorandum-laden airplane
Stirred the rust of my machine guns.
Unrelenting, my magazine would spew
Spurts of rage till the argument
Yields to the louder, more determined Soldier.
I would give my victory no rest.
It will die, of its own accord,
Among the intricate complexities of
Newer, better armament.
Rubber bands. Rubber sheaths.
My conscious song would be a beat
Rhythmic as a heart
Even as it skips
A splintered auricle.
I would want to be a mutineer.
I would hop and skip and leave them dead.
Ensconced in silk,
My wandering aircraft describes
A pocket.
The enemy is avoided.
Such daredevil feat.
The maneuver interrupting
The train of deployed dust.