October 2019

cancer ward
the permanent markers 
running low

cancer ward
we breathe each breath 

her lover
breaks through the brushstrokes
of her sullen art

moon blossom —
another bull shits
its aha

from my pen
an hallucination
of loose ends

my shadow reflects
on its life
before there was light

fiat umbra
my shadow recreates
its sense of self

my shadow
masters the art
of camouflage

my shadow
fails to find a life
of its own

my shadow
my carbon footprint

a sundial pauses
for my shadow's

my shadow
decodes messages hidden
to the naked eye

my shadow
fills out my application
to be myself

my shadow
an elastic band
to the sun

my shadow
hellbent in pursuit
of nightfall

receding light
at dead low water  
my interior landscape's
where meaning lies 
inverse presence
and distance ends  
we enter  
shadows seize my breath
our perfect expression  
in soundlessness
without words 

facing extinction
fat cats lick
their nether regions

climate change debate
we dignify the old fart
with silence

turning over a new leaf
the climate change denier
bites the dust

a paedophile
lusts after
his younger self

I miss the train
while listening to
people get ready

writers block . . .
I see a minstrel
and want to paint it black

moving sultrily
to a very cellular song
the blonde sucks me in

not yet dead
the long lost track
of my generation

dazed and confused
our love flies
like a lead balloon