IN MY BOOKS
The way I figure it, a number of people are
out of control at any given time ...
gin rummy & hockey notwithstanding.
Mickey bottles and varicose veins
are sure signs of indulgence
as are, proof-positive, speed-traps &
roll your own Black Cat.
Sure 'nuff, even Sunday driving stands
at the motor edge of frenzy while
Mom's apple pie is little more than just peaches & cream
home baked greed.
Take stock car racing or the trots, Little Orphan Annie
Comics or Budweiser. Vice, like charity, starts at home.
Each curtails a larger problem and self worship
begins the moment your zipper opens.
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MADE IN SPACE
Mood food. In deep, deep water
without the thought of water bottom,
I thought of you.
Sous la peau rouge,
Chartreuse, I thought
of you.
Dans le cafe du paradis,
ile au emeraude.
Cascades aux ecrivisses
la belle aux Bois dormant.
Tir a l'arc, volcon.
Precious little majesty to Words
nor necromancy of place names,
ma douce.
Partout, je te vous.
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