On the longest day
Time still flies as I listen
To your Summer spring.

She is just enough foreign
To fling a flash of lost focus
Agony of misinterpretations
In the way she Ms.uses cutlery
To the silent syllables she stresses.
To clasp her is to dare ambiguity
A conceptual blending, a ratio of
Just enough Q to encircle the weirdo
Infuse him with a Dionysian waft
Trancing his mind, trashing his work
Confiscating his self to raptures
From which it returns
Never quite the same
Just enough foreign
To re-deem the man.

My heart thirsts
But I will not drink until you drink
My bones desire a soul
To be nailed to
And to stroll as a virtuous voyager
My face surrenders an embrace
As you help me
Lace a tongue knot
A weave of juicy thread
Thank you
Now I can only
Salivate tears
Drip shock from my chin
And purr with
The moon and the ogres
The unsaid
Ringing in my ears.

Prometheus

He walked in drunk
It was a sober man's drunk
A being spirited beyond his spirits
He sat
I regarded
His story began with a bad joke
Then he told me about the goddess he married
Twenty-two (seems like) centuries ago
About the house he built
Framed with his own ribs
Plumbed with the veins of his heart
Heated with their ardor
Adorned with angel's art
Two days ago
She met him at the door
Fire in her eyes
But only embers in her heart
I watched him bide
Then imbibe more tear than beer
As he described the photo album
"Her most precious thing"
His daughter had present-ed to him
So he would not forget
Her freckled nose and her brother's blue eyes
She sensing he would not see them for a while
He imbibed this thought
I listened as the tears were fused
He said he would make them proud
They would know the truth behind the myths
About their father
But for the moment he was stuck
In this rock of a town
Until he could find a chain for his bike
He asked directions to the nearest pool hall
So the bottled eagle could finish destroying his liver
He lit a cigarette
And walked out
Leaving me his book of matches.

Entropy

The anchor on the market recap show
Has your flat-toned laugh
I hear it Monday through Friday, 5-6PM.

The waitress at the Polish restaurant
Has your clenched smile
Also, self-conscious of the size of her teeth.

The receptionist at the vet's office
Has your off-kilter sitting posture
So the same straight, long brown hair can drape over her left shoulder.

The flower lady on the corner
Has your no-nonsense wit
Never short on tips for how I can improve my appearance.

The old woman down the block
Has your power of perception
Reminding me that I am slightly more reliable
     Than the garbage men, but far less deserving
     Of attention than a stray cat.

This is how I know you live on
In a steady state uniformly populated with living bits of you.
Unlike my chaos...
With its clumpy, clingy bits of memory
T0, P0, before some entropic force and Cupid's twanged arrow of time
Dispersed our heat.