elegy (20171129)

i pass through a cold spot
the paranormal experts
tell me this is a sign
some formerly corporeal being

is absorbing energy because
it wishes to communicate
or otherwise engage
with a world of mucus-leaking
sacks of wobbly flesh

who’s a good boy?

i don’t discourage the flickers
at the edge of my vision
the sound of jangled tags
the clacking of long toenails

happy to ride a bus
i’ll get off only when they make me
without a known destination

still

lately i gaze
out the window at a soft horizon
and feel the need for heaven

an elegy to desire (20170403)

here lies lust
whose blood has
turned to rust
decaying bones
a powdered dust

remember the fire
in his veins
bore you higher
than any snow-capped
mountain spire

what an art
was seduction
the saddest part–
he had no
beating heart

——

It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 3

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