s.
Think of Robespierre
holding his bleeding jaw
or Marat outside--
eyeing the inscription,
scofula no longer distracting while
tepidly emptying bath water.

2
Dreams, poetry of painting,
deathly pastel shades alongside
granite canyons
entwined with rosebuds and leaves--
bone horseshoes clanking in the dark.

3
Catch basin, drainage ditch
upon which the raspberry
parts its tendrils and
human remains, the loathing
of the living ("not dead yet...."
...appropriate obscenity:)
scrawled on one Victorian
mortuary, windows knocked out,
coffins in full view a
hand's reach away on a dare
dignitaries in a pile pried loose;
one, few years hence across
the Channel, sworn enemy
to the French.

STREET SCENE

No open barge
crowded with nameless waifs
or junks in a teeming harbour
--just odours spilling from
a back alley,
stair wells littered with cheap saki
bottles, one propped
to rifle the door.

IN MY BOOKS

The way I figure it, a number of people are
out of control at any given time ...
gin rummy & hockey notwithstanding.

Mickey bottles and varicose veins
are sure signs of indulgence
as are, proof-positive, speed-traps &
roll your own Black Cat.

Sure 'nuff, even Sunday driving stands
at the motor edge of frenzy while
Mom's apple pie is little more than just peaches & cream
home baked greed.

Take stock car racing or the trots, Little Orphan Annie
Comics or Budweiser. Vice, like charity, starts at home.

Each curtails a larger problem and self worship
begins the moment your zipper opens.

MADE IN SPACE

Mood food. In deep, deep water
without the thought of water bottom,
I thought of you.

Sous la peau rouge,
Chartreuse, I thought
of you.

Dans le cafe du paradis,
ile au emeraude.
Cascades aux ecrivisses
la belle aux Bois dormant.
Tir a l'arc, volcon.

Precious little majesty to Words
nor necromancy of place names,
ma douce.

Partout, je te vous.

GODIVA

Lingerie,
black pumps
a navel creamy enough
to drown a kitten--
the clothes assemble
in microwave fashion
--crackle of fire--
the silver pants zoom across legs
with curves so caress bound
a formula racing driver
might tumble.

As eyes rise
in jade lantern face
& hair is brushed
with all sheen aside,
the lady is more than
a Godiva