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Farewell Love

Quickly before the fire dies
leaving us in darkness
I need to see your face
the round of your cheek
soft lash holding
a bead of tear

Chagall 2015


I breathe heavy after an iamb
I tucker after a couplet
and now they’re talking stanza!

Chagall 2015

Your majesty, let this be writ today
Cineri gloria sera est
Glory paid to ashes comes too late

In waltz
cotton parasols like white petals
pirouette on open bud
spun this swaying lady

In tango curvy, nay brilliant
bryllyg and slythy
a perfect silhouette

A fantail shuffle
a slide-step past the moonlight
your finest top-shelf anything really

may your night be forever early

Chagall 2015

A Hug And A Dollar

In this more recent age
of high-tech thievery and thuggery
I find myself more and more
missing my grandma, simpler days.

Chagall 2015


They repeated
No, no thought

Contented, I’d given up
trying to tell them

All things at once
is the same thing

Chagall 2015

She fell from the branch
immediately shaping a figure S
then soared on a wing full of air
while I remain here unamused
lacking desire to fly

Chagall 2015

She said
I’m a frigging avatar
who’s gonna know?

I told her
I’d know.

To which she smirked
then faded.

Chagall 2015


I will kiss your face
while you try not to giggle.

Who’s game?

Chagall 2015

Pass Me The Tourism Section

Sometimes I right-click, toggle the Language
to some exotic setting, then I travel
vicariously through font and accented characters
I wax eloquent, coerce my prose forward
on-line editing is friendly that way
I am riding the metro my dear, I will be home
to our small flat in that city where the Language
has a large following of speakers
I am fluent, the years have treated you well
how I still love embracing you every night
I say I love you in every language possible
as a ritual every night I’m compulsive that way
it takes hours I know I’m sorry
I will right-mouse-click us out of this jam pronto

Chagall 2015

The Scape I Live On

I’ll find peace
in my mind

I seek freedom

May birds forever

Sun for all
upturned faces

to quench thirst

I’ve my own sliver
of moon

Chagall 2015


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