lifed:out

Dolly tempted waiter-boys in Marbella,
even after being swallowed by the
pavement yawning into sunny space
between her latest mark and broken bones.

Reeling in the compensation, she had learned
a trick or two in army camp where
Zyclon-B was not for her, no way; whatever
must – when girthed so beautifully desperate.

pole dancer

hanging by my heels from steel
I wish black ceiling higher
but those eyes,
courting briefest glimpse,
do not matter any more
than fear or suicidal impulse
to let go right now,
lose grip and watch finale
glitter play the crowd.

and so your eyes, crying in
the rhythm of each fall,
see everything.

nothings (weird)

star breath soon became another

wise and incoherent
pattern wreathing
comfort to appease

thing, always scarlet

misperception, mind
grey with fades
of immortality

valid only

in deception’s while

.