

Fields of WheatWinter's marching to the cotton's fields Silence falls in awe, as her jackals howl In a forlorn shed I gaze through the horizon, shivering. Behind half-open shutters and barred doors Smell of a rotten self is climbing on my rags, Salty soup will fill with floes Cause tonight, the clouds won't fade.Fields of Wheat
Peasants, hear her tremor
Winter's marching to my fields of wheat Famine gales in fear, as her scythe whistles In a forlorn shed I lean on the windowsill, trembling. Behind half-open shutters and barred doors Sound of fluttered teeth is climbing down the fumes, &n


White MarsSleeveless roams by the shore of thy breast –White Mars
Fleeing, voyage through a woodless abdomen Valley of flourish freckles – forth crippled humming By the pleading Nile of thy navel.
Far flung softness on the rim of the bosomed hymn Besieged by lullaby's margins – south, south, thou sing Contractions of muscled thighs downward - ancient empire By the fire pits of thy genitalia.
Force the groans, wring my weariness, alive Written nibs and dots' waterfall, tightened lipless ode Tremble, my loathing white march, mars' alive By the essence of thy child.


The Forbidden ChimeRaw steps tapped within the carefree garden's hall, the foreign shade groped; Estranged harmonic chimes relieved his exposure march; And stumbled forth, inculcated bare mound of concealed roots.The Forbidden Chime
We heard the vivid chime, chime, chimes…
A gilded trunk emphasized his wooden muscles over the crippled fool; Chiming fruits quivered with the ornaments of his blunder While the skin covered mouth drooled with the virgin's amazement. We heard the rip - ruddy chime, chime, chimes…
He hesitated and lifted his patchwork arm, tiptoed on the white grass; They chimed so peacefully with the


Ridicules silhouettesThe mosaic nimbus drubbed me barefoot Against the skyscrapers, I fenced with the lonely cats – Half-sword thrust. Harvest the yawns Like the yeoman, as a hay of acupuncture needles.Ridicules silhouettes
The silhouette of myself smiting seems ridicules To experienced eyes that see the strains beyond – A cord's flight; Gravel the creaks Like a devious drought, under insidious asphalt roads.
I wondered with no indications of white straps Against tessellation stars, I lowered my ticking eyeballs – Copper chains. Embalm the feathers Like the stained gowns, facing the oozing crude oil.


Audrey and Napoleon.Audrey and Napoleon
When Audrey and I were little girls, one with long legs and one with brown skin, we would smear summer plums on our mouths and crush walnuts with her father's baseball signed by Tug McGraw. As we sat on the sunburned rooftops of suburbia and she showed me where her kneecap had a cross-stich of purple cuts from her first try with a pink plastic razor, I lied about my first kiss; she knew and let me talk of greater things. That used to make me love her, but it doesn't


AgeSilence is unheard of, At 42 Crescent Avenue. Laying awake in the early hours, With a pillow over his head; Wishing for it to block out the voices from the living room, Or censor his breathing - He cries, As he begs his parents to stop digging their claws into each other\'s skin, To tear away what they've both become.Age
Mother's crying at the way life fails to please her; Father raises his voice, To cut away her tears to melt away the guilt that he's failing to provide; Failing to love the conflict of interest, They call a marriage.
In a cycle of a
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