Wyrd

A trio of pastel,
Wyrd Sisters three,
bend trinal
above the skyline trees

From that lofty perch
they greedily survey
a tabletop fit
for their mischief today

To cast stones of ice,
gelid canon shot,
or igneous splinters?
They can figure not

But that triad of Harpies
are not long stooped by
as Njordr cold brushes
those wraiths from the sky

Fossils

primal encryption
secrets from Earth’s youthful flush
reveal God’s sandbox

String

I use words to forge
my quantum omniverse,
those parallel states
of eternal inflation
where
I may meet myself
if I stop and think
long enough.

Or remain oblivious
to the eternal
supersitions
as I
and me
times infinity
split our now’s
into an isolation of realities.

Where
all my observable outcomes,
those parallel strings
of existence,
decree such disorder
that this cat
lives
and that cat dies.

Each
shameless vice obscured
by a cyclic waveform
that closes the loop
and renders each
invisible
to the other’s
spontaneous symmetry.

My Iridescent Friend

Sometimes she abides
veiled in black
obscured to my view.
For days
she will be unseen
but I know she’s there.

I feel her pull in my blood
and before long the merest
sliver of a smile will break,
growing wider each day,
until full of face
she will stare down at me.

Her pock marked guise
betrays the ravages
of her youth
yet her beauty remains
undiminished
and I feel her wholly mine.

I know I’m not her first,
I know I’m not her only
but she remains
as faithful as the tides
and today
she chooses me.

At first
to run besides me,
scudding along
the hedgerow tops,
between the trees
toying with my attention.

But as rural
melds with urban
she breaks cover
and joyously
surfs an avenue
of cold amber

Today’s liaison though
is sadly brief
and grey razor strips
dissect her face
into a thousand
argentous shards

Swallowed
in a cloak of brume
I cannot be downcast
I know she prevails
and presently
she will be mine once more

Peel

Peel
When I was young
I was haunted
by the faraway wail
of Delta ghosts.

Each night the sound
of the long dead
would scream on in
and sputter out.

My ears would strain
as Midnight closed
and dread would tighten
its mucid grip.

I didn’t know
What a levee was,
though I felt that hellhound
on my trail.

A greasy sweat
swathed my brow
each evening late
as sheets pulled tight.

But Uncle John
with soothing tones
would banish the creeps
and bid "Goodnight".

Honeyfucked

So avid am I
for your divinity
my breath bates,
and my heart murmurs
like an eager audience,
while every nerve in my body
hums with the anticipation
of a gut string ready to be plucked

I have such visions
of entwined limbs,
and engorged conjoinment
such nectarous
viscid intimacy,
with the sudor drenched
ecstatic, explosive exhaustions
of an orgiastic crescendo

You have lit that fuse,
so toy with me
until I am fit to burst
then expose to me
your manifest radiance
and ignite my prurience
in the fervid furious fusillade
of our salacious coda

Urge

Your passion
that must be spent wisely
A prurience
slowly indulged
Then surrendered
so very completely
In a zeal
so fiercely effulged

I Watched The Skies (slight rework)

I watched the sky,
uninterrupted,
for a while.
A pusillanimous sun
squatting low
in a gruel wash
slow cooking
high white trails,
the excreta of
mechanical birds,
engorge,
then distend
into a smut blown blue
where the petty brown farts
of last nights rain
run low to the ground
as if to escape
the vitiligous patchwork sky
Now the shadows shorten
and the dishwater glows,
swathed in banded gold,
though away behind me
dirty cotton candy mountains
bear ill intent.
But now
the brightest star,
with blinding effulgence
scorching eternal shadows,
rouses,
shrugs loose the vaprous cortege
and sits aloft
the closing bed of grim.
Then off and higher into the cerulean,
dissolving arresting clouds
into vapid venous alveoli,
continues that
ceaseless arc
leaving me amidst
a tobacco stained train.
one, follows another,
follows another,
follows another,
until anon we are separated
and they, with valedictory relief,
decant their crocodile tears
for our parting.