March 27, 2013

I should take my shadow on a full moon walk/

I should tackle my dark in a full press block/

truth is useless for a metaphor man/

I’d need stronger measures. I’d witness

A stranger changing in front of a mirror,

Trying on odder fitting outfits,

Lines sure and sheer./


So nervously casual unwrapped/enrapt

So near a naked half turn onto eye you

We lay fastened on grand pianos

Braying asses assuredly elegant

                               in perfecting predawn light


A quiet gust came up

Only the smallest leaves take swirl

On paths  in moon


Aligning our times

We  counted  skies

We  chimed  in






.the imagery of asses on grand pianos ejaculated its way into my dream by way of

an old (very old) short film, a landmark classic from the surrealistic art movement, Dali

had alot to do with it as I remember, saw it as a teenager, wondered “What the hell..?”

I wonder it still. It seemed right at home in my fantasy, I wrote years ago.



May 17, 2011

Her references  prove to be

Spotless, impeccable.

Her preferences, it seems to me

Ain’t spotless.  Her sheets meet sun’s shine,

All windfilled,  & wet,

Clothespinned,  most  mornings.

Oh,  He’s  pined, most  evenings,

Night-dreaming   on sheets.




“Here I go
It’s coming for me through the trees
Help me someone help me please
Take my shoes off and throw them in the lake
And I’ll be two steps on the water”

                                       -Kate Bush, from “Hounds Of Love”

Your Morning Light Whites

February 8, 2011


My funny  anglophile,


I’m sure you could fit  as british

I’m sure  that could be  one big hat

You wear  in yr garden  for tea

It’s a cliché’

But   porcelain

Is the crayon I’d use for yr skin.

It’s not the naughty tickle that gets you grinning

When I kiss yr creamy creamy belly,

You forget that  it calls   with beauty.

When I kiss yr bum & backside,

You ignore that it’s more than  backthere  backside.

When i explore yr inner arm,  inner leg,

All yr  inners,  Inner faces,

Now you  know  new  inner secret places,

New,  even to you, you nude alabaster


& you pray I’ll stay slow

but   oh

you  go

“go faster”.



July 22, 2010

When we wash, we will dress just for us

When we wish, wishes crest & flourish.

When we wrap them on

When we wrap them on


When we wrap them on

All our cares are vanquished

When we wrap them on

All the rest is rubbish

When we wrap them on

Sane old thoughts are senseless

When we wrap them on

Newly free   Defenseless

When we wrap them on

We’ll sway away,  as Sunday dressed

When we wrap them on

mmmelodies instantaneous

When we wrap them on

Mellifluous  as  Spanish

When we wrap them on

Each the moments  is precious

When we wrap them on

nods up & down in this darkness

When we wrap them on

Words hone down to noises, noises

When we wrap them on

How faces look, cook our furnace

When we wrap them on

Spit & sizzle is our eyes

When we wrap them on

We dress for success

When we wrap them on

We dress to please, please, please

Can we wrap them on, can we wrap them on


When we wrap them on

When we wrap them on