too many stricter
district teachers mislabel
a black cat a window
boysenberries spoil
a collar a stovepipe
whether the reign fell
before Good Anne’s Sir
a blue beard a shadow
as well writ as crude
Tropical night
It´s too warm.
Too warm tonite.
Too warm night for august.
Soon it´ll
be fall.
I will have my birthday
in september.
Excactly 100 days
before Christmas day
I´ll have my birthday.
One more year
on the list.
I´m gonna
celebrate in company
of my old parents.
And I do hope
this birthday
will be the last
before The Holy Spirit
comes to me
and i can
change the
world into Heaven
for Gods sake.
I´m gonna
be a wonderful
kind angel.
Fanboy’s Halo
choice of radii
fashionable verandas
a circulation
multi-national
a promenade a sparrow’s
exasperation
can’t tell why fishes
swim in a styrofoam cup
a tank in the road
This Old Man…
walkabout can’t tell
are our tracks no-one across
welcome the hand held
one else who has lost
a butterfly’s turtle tear
that fear a stranger
many arm’d as those
incidentally unharm’d
what time a war crime
Beads
sing the song that hurt him
that stung his eyes
like desiccant smoke from old burning tires
tears turned into ashes
he had to cry pieces
a granular million
discrete broken beads
of a heat-tempered heart
safe for this playground of immature knees
you can crawl without care
there are no jagged shards of him
at least none to cut you
today
those who are hurt
can still stand
but you who give hurt
have to crawl from now on
it’s written that way
in all the good fairy tales
or maybe it’s in
those morality plays
he read as a man-child
just watch that you don’t dare crawl to him
his heart beads are gone
rolled away
finding lodge
in the cracks only two can make
trying to love
go ahead
sing the song all you like
he no longer cares
you can see it
by seeing
what…
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ayaladn 