All Them Wizards

With each increasing
sticky word exchange
I wonder what I finally
did and say a prayer of thanks

for letting me behind the curtain
once more,
for granting me a painfully persisting spirit, obsessional love to bloom
an intimacy organism.

a ghost of something tender inside that only I need to know about,
a vapor happy exorcism.

a gift of green folded drapes
the energy behind stirs my want to need a cloud of power I ink the sky.

perception of such an exchange met.
a challenge of beautiful proportions
breaking into sharp blades of bird shapes.

make you listen and make you see;
get into an everyday rhythm with me.
Shakespeare of the attention hunt,
entrance granted,
entranced and over extended.
back to the beauty of such things.

forever disguised ,misguided love.
into you fall
under spells shh-ing your resistance and
grant me my looksee.


The Instigator

It’s never there waiting
a wistful whistle
a practical question
tinkling quasar of want to know
you should go

I’m easily taken.

Not What You See

City to me
doesn’t mean money
it does mean poverty
It does mean life
It does mean making a living
It does mean making a life
and noise
and prayers to glass towers
above all the crumbling past
ghost dew
like paint chips
like sky

To Be Polite (In Red)

In there I
Shakedown the keeper
He knows (what’s best for me)
Look like
Underground rapport
Marry me
Make you mine
I will always swear this give you girl
No break
Gonna love you


Not fair that
I get to watch you from
not so far away knowing
the words spilled
ridiculous and fast
no regard