tock

Now servant seconds grow the day
And mongrel time is calendar
As sun and moon unevenly conspire,
Treachery and comfort are wed.
There is a web in the spider
For the fly minded spies.
Dissection dreams prevail.

motor

Coarse magic plays out its songs.
Dead engine in a field screams,
' But I am Ozymandias!'.
Let us sing the song of Sallowmen
Then there will be a silence
And a burial in blue.

dual/duel

Crydeology and orbital love theory
The polarity ritual ,
Notions of repulsion,
Attraction is a suspect
And so, back to back,
posed as duelers,
We begin that circular dance.
Meeting (never met),
Assuming some spherical rendezvous,
Positing the touchless cares,
The desiccation possibility,
As lips and fingers take on a dusty patina
And senses drop away like a funhouse floor.

tour

Contusional blessings of the hand and soul
blue trucking on the veins
below the yeiding porcelain
approaching navel bases
reading nervous endings
on acupunctural roadmaps
the tao of chilling passions
disturbed by china winds
like the rolling glass of lakes
so drive I rain to break it
in so many swollen places
and someday rest I well
shores met by seeking root
to measure space for me
for length
for heightening of dreamsels.

27B

The chaff nature of this day,
a particulate dawn without edges,
The scrape and shuffle of tentative doors
And the split blind curiosity .
All nocturnes fade on the last note
Stretched like a web end
To snap silently on first light .
Thresh holds me,
Granularly, grainy, grounded .

All

Occasional bouts of magic, A screaming skid into some barbed heaven,
Incantation louder than thought
And walking on Teflon soles.
All mountains are higher when you kneel,
All terrors mill your tread,
All joys are promiscuous,
All lovers inexhaustible,
All money too precious to spend,
All definition done.

gambol

I play blind poker across the sheets
with trembling hands dealt,
and a gambler's eye upon you.
Chance would be a fine thing.
Chance would be a fine thing.
One to ten forays to test
how lie these on those
and slide them, curved,
to hide them, curved,
so deep and deftly done.
Soft moans for gaining tosses,
screams for winning,
and whispers for the endgame.

My deal?