Autumn Menagerie 21: The Town Crier

"By convention sweet and by convention bitter,
by convention hot, by convention cold,
by convention color: in reality atoms and void."
------------------ Democritus.


His words break the air
Like a toddler's toy.
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Laugh or cry
Over the gall.
We all must die,
After all.

Time Is Relative

Time is a relative who wastes us by never leaving.

Awakening

Instant vertigo,

lines of light
run through
blinds

Washing away
the mysterious topography
of dreams

Begin,
wiping eyes and
rising,
to orient.

Autumn Menagerie 20: The Mass Shooter(Not Shown)

(Mass Shooter not shown in effort to refuse to feed anti-Muslim

turn of coverage[Latest story-"Shooter Shouted "Allahu Akbar""].

The man in photo is a spokesman and innocent of any wrongdoing.)

(Image courtesy of CBSNews)

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If only we had more guns

tragedies like these would

be less likely.

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The war machine has no head,

just appetite.

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Note:

Despite being a Muslim, the shooter was an officer

who acted as a Psychiatric Counselor to personnel

suffering PTSD's from action in theatres of war and

occupation.

It was well known he had severe misgivings about

the military operations in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The Army promptly called him up to serve in

Afghanistan.

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" All's fair in love and war."

Autumn Menagerie 19: Zoologist en herbe

All rends,

All mends,

Love's all

Here ends.

In Lieu of Fucking

Let's overrun
the pearly gates

And found a republic
of rest.

Where the metre
of our inspiration
becomes one.


Our capitol
will be halved
by the slowest
rivereverrun.


I'll wear your
softness dalliantly,
invested
in the full
caress.


Please, my love, let's not
stir up this dust.
It stings the eyes.

Darling,
in lieu of fucking,
let us cleave to this
sweet reverie,
drunk on the
dulcet whisper,
"We."

The Factory Head

The sough of turbines
unsettles sleep.

A sidewalk cleaves
to the abandoned factory,

An infinite regress
of gray,
laborious, care.

It is not music
nor scenery.

A wake
past touching--
machinery.



The assembly line
carries goods
Erased.

Words and deeds
consumed.

Above the
furnace,

Gray and black motes
escape my ashen mouth.

Belinda

Bells end the day.
Belinda
to close
Sol's bright eye---

Cool,
shining,
Crown in the pocket
of night's dark frock.


Belinda,
Ubiquitous trail
of fragrant exhalation

Belinda,
Triple tongue leap
of immersed fascination


Depths
hold the lie

In her eyes,
those coined depths,

galleys founder.

Ode

Breath erodes.
Flesh leavens to endure.


We must part
When the sun
Leaves the sky.

Desire sets, but
Desire does not die.