Frankenlines

Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass
I'm addicted to my own hopelessness
I can connect nothing with nothing
I have been half in love with easeful Death
There is no place that does not see you
You must change your life

Short Poems #3-4

His Love was Thrashing 'Gainst her Heart

His love was thrashing 'gainst her heart, 
then pulling back, releasing shards
of colored glass—erect like guards.
His love and hate displayed; like art.


************************************

Perfumed Sunspot

The alley boys had asked if I
had tasted June's perfumed sunspot.
I've gauged devotion only by
the nightly pecks of moonless sky.