In dirge of desires
fear transacts with
hedge of hesitancy
to keep pace
of tides. Come-on
by tits or tattoo
on hineys stir
Primer of pomology
has other clauses
isn’t for everyone.
Towels loll in the sun after mopping
wet bodies, you and I wipe each other
with our skins in lambency in another
episode of linkages. Equipping oneself
is an ongoing blurb. This uni never ends.
What one can’t crack isn’t meant to be.
Lullabies outgrow quicker than we think.
Of fissures on human vase flows poetry.
We are perched on the conversation pit
when niece from another nation is over
with her boys, a year apart. The older is
three. I offer the younger one a present,
move on to his sibling. Lachy smiles,
verbalizes his response which only his
mother reads. As interpreter she clarifies,
he is saying thank you. Even before I
reciprocate I notice Oliver has given up
on his gift. He’s rubbernecking his sib’s
box, same volume and bedeck.
Ribbons of our outing flag downbeat courtesies.
Known not to kowtow to ceremonial mythos, I
can’t defer my wringing to another whorl. No
handbook helps. Register of our rapport, causes
this. I crawl for a consultation with you. Decep-
tion is my dose. I know this and more. What is
its efficacy? Paroxysms of partage ache.
Sturm und Drang
Coziness of corners, I felt on territories
not mine. Sex in sweat of your underarms.
In fusion of joyousness and flavors of
hizzy fits drove the wheels of our agency.
We were young, naïve and not accustomed
to piacularness. Inherent in our hymn was
forfeiture to other forces.
The Realpolitik Rider
Crimes the political class wreaks
by not executing rigors of roster
are more wretched than exploits
of yardbirds. When lawbreakers
turn into lawmakers scofflaws
grow into saints. In such a setup
it’s advisable to eavesdrop on
cries of the canaille. Their snivels
hold spasms of hard-heartedness.
To heed is to salve.