The Instrument

You fiddle, croon
and swoon
the tune away –
imagining it’s up
to you to do.

The instrument’s
a thing you
think you play,
but actually it’s
playing you.







.

Sunset

Sunset's like
an orange
fat man swinging
naked in the park

while a gray cat thinks
whatever gray cats
think at the onset
of the dark.








.

Influence

Influence’s nature is to influence. Its confluence

of inferences courses in exactly like a tide

which sits astride you like a savior: Neptune
on a wave, encompassing the slew of you,

disseminating through – inseminating porous
surfaces to breed new inward constellations
of itself. It knows just how to manage
who you think you are so that you feel you’re

spinning round a star whose organizing gravity
has finally begun to make Existence tractable.
Then, having spun, you wane with it like mist –
its stains refrain, retract. This is its remaining fact.






.

Crossing Her Legs

To drape one
off the other’s knee

so it drops –
lazy – vertically –

which presses
two expectant thighs

together into
tight surprise –

such thrilling
public privacy!:

sitting is by far
what she

enjoys above
all other arts

that conjugate
the lower parts.





.

Un Peu de Folie

Comme c'est intéressant!

Nous sommes toujours
après ou avant.

translation:

http://translate.google.com/#fr|en|Un%20Peu%20de%20Folie%0A%0AComme%20c'est%20int%C3%A9ressant!%20%0ANous%20sommes%20toujours%20%0Aapr%C3%A8s%20ou%20avant.%0A

.

To Pet It

Sometimes you see
a thing and want
to pet it.

It seems to have
to happen so
you let it.

You hope
you won’t
regret it.







.

The Art of Exhaustion

To sink adroitly into it –
to part with conscious sentience
as completely as you can –
must surely offer

some illuminating chance
to gain at least
a glance –
a glimpse –

a tiny understanding –
of the lure
of what you’ll
blink at

in the darkness
of the final dive.
To think in that abyss –
be that exhausted and alive!

What might you
uncover
and bring back –
if you revive?





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