O BODY

O body, leave me cold and dry

the light in the puddle

is not the moon

Else the cold warmth tried

of an old man’s face, askance

in the knowing

BLANK

I seize for the victories

and the tic tac spoils

of these blank line blues,

ranked inconsiderately.

Ready for a strong arm

with the gnashing of arteries,

or exiting to receive the weak one

in what was once called contemplation.

Ending what neither of us have not.

CRUSHED TO COOLY

You cannot walk

Your head hits your chest

You’re not asleep

No guilt of pill

No directive call

But there’s this light

That’s breaking through

The sky your head

Your head the sky

And you know you’re not asleep

Your flesh left aside

But it’s still out there

And you know you’re not awake

You feel the salt

That’s in the breeze

And the waves you hear

Curling through this light

As a mirrored cup drinking-up

All that light sets between

And you’re not asleep

And you’re not awake

And it culminates amid