To Perdition

This night’s lady –

Too casually-chosen perhaps –

So-soon satiated, flutters

Easily between fantasy and sleep. And

I, alone, am conscious, again, of the

Anaconda in the witch-hour bedroom.

The one that seeks the carbon dioxide I exhale,

Brushes  my exposed skin in invisible passing;

Realising that, at long-last, I will be all-out

Of resistance when the judgement-jaws gape and

Fangs fashioned like no-absolution lightning

Lay bare my soul and fasten on my very core, pointing

The way; the only way – to Perdition …

To Perdition – and beyond!

Be Sure

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Be certain-sure that the full

Treasure-moon also rises; that

elven-blued stars wing across autumn skies

In the rich fairy lands; the realms we

May be lucky enough to glimpse

Only behind our eyelids;

Beyond our fragile, tip-toe dreams.

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Ella’s Alarm!

The mantel clock ticks

And time’s candle-sands tock,

Dripping ellipses into our

Life’s-a-stage lives.

Cleanin’ lady’s got

The button-down blues,

Landlord’s fantasies

Won’t be stilled

And the ugly, pendulum bouncers

Are sighing, yearning for the

Grey pumpkin deadline.

Away From Suitcase Words

Taking my dilemma-seat on the red-eye express –
Please let it be a save-soul flight
Hoping to be carried away from
Cheap hotel rooms and suitcase words
Towards a different kind of trigger light.

Brown sugar call, insistent demand,
Throbbing troll-drum loud
In my outlaw head.

Need the savage high-born,
Black panther lady in my bed.
If more-than-yellow survival
And deep desert-gold redemption
Are the witch’s corkscrew goals
Conquest, consummation and satisfaction
Are fantasy’s waypoints and evolution’s tolls.

6/1/2012