‘40’s Swing !

Get down and
let’s boogey to the swing
that does that special “ thing”:
slide ,turn and glide
across the floor
let your body free
jump to the drum beat
girate, bump and grind
Oh, my!
Shake your booty
show me what you got
Ouch !
your mamma and papa did no wrong!!
There ain’t no maybe, baby
Pull back the rugs
Play that 40s song
And let’s dance

I have no music stand
to remind me
of the music
you used to play
Its shaft end
too remembered
to be comfortable

So skilled with your
instrumental phallus
so many notes
so many times
I bowed my head
and adored
adored
the senses
of your masterpiece

I could be transported
to touch temporal perfection
I was often laid open
to experimental notes
on frenzied flesh

dream awake
the doorframe waits
smudged with drifts
collisions in passage
rudderless

a lamp burns
and a fossil television
eye beams

scrapes and bruises
bumps and cuts
while a cold fuscia
morning crouches
at the window

The steam ghosts
rising from gas vent
populations
across tar and brick

"my debt is thick"

glitter stare like trinket
bottles and coffee table
scene stained touch

In Moriver's enduring spring
there rose to new life, many things
that in the erst, in slumber deep
had lain, entombed in Hilfe's keep.
Through many years of terror bleak            5
that sullied plain to mountain peak
the mighty Queen of all the world
her graces from the west withheld
until the raging tempers stilled
and noble blood no more was spilled.            10

'Twas long ago, when Hamclad's hold
was newly wrought upon the fold
beneath the northern mountains high,
where icy summits scraped the sky.
Deep down within the dolven halls        5
of Aladice's gloomful walls;
there in a subterranean vale
do we begin this wondrous tale.

Just a Mo…

It doesn’t matter how
you cut it, this
planet is our life.
We can’t blame the
tracks for division
while monetary
inequality’s
still rife.

Though we may
hide behind
education or
religion, the deed
is ours alone.
The rich always
eat meat, while
the rest shall
suck on the bone.

your beautiful eyes
eyes can never get exhausted
they only exhaust.

It’s the love in one’s eyes
one remembers

and

admires at all cost,
don’t let your eyes frost.

mine are seemingly tired
now you have to take on

let eyes be the window
of thy mind
never,
ever again say
exhaust

Yesterday I stood in court
Arguing my reality
The Judge he was a decent bloke
The lawyer disassembled me

My case reversed I duly fled
Hoping no return
Another date lodged in my head
On which the point could turn

Will I make a tidy sum?
Will I be the winner?
Or end up kicked out on me bum
Not thousand dollars richer?

The law you see is not too just
The case will turn on law
They want proof, that's all they ask
Not what he said or saw

slouching hard
back row foolin'
tiltin' the rockin' edge

a clock head
set to scoot
the droning monotone
alone
and the misery in silent
thirty squirms

thirsting for fun

only

ok

down along the motorcar
the fender is wretched
petrol bright is strolling
the glass like innocent
eyes scattered
greasy with rain

flame emollient growing
with interest

Through the pallid slender
trees the river churns steadfast
and slow

sluggish taste of blood upon
the swollen lip
and a jaunty burning in the
right hip

stand like twins
the shadows stretching
the wind receiving
dark reception

oval eyed and wide
as the night