we’ve left our good manners behind with the company – he has his arm around my drunken waist, the other hand shakes fingers in a naked oration that strips sidewalk poseurs of their windy fizz

She birthed their love affair with a mouthful of marmalade, one white arm across his chair. In a vase on the table, wings of forget-me-nots swayed for her in dances of jade and eggshell. She plucked a breadcrumb gently from his sable lash as the l

night sweats      spring the latch                     //          &n

your charms won panic nestled and that an end to it, the so-called writing whose other rock, the backgrounding,

I saw moon children, the madness, your meteor tongue vibrating I love you’s and light shoo-ees, the kind Poe sweated in his plays despite the O my darling’s from Lenore, despite my &nb

unties heavy wings, she confides in the ear of he, a dirty filthy he asleep in a chair just barely there         contrarily, though earthbound, it sends those willing to dissolve in a downpour, to shed

at her barrow place on the rhine the information was on the back of the phone transported through a ginger night I was one of the lies and I don’t know how to tell you I’ll be here tomorrow at the end of the street but I am here and t