This was actually written 1.15.06
The desert sky at 4 a.m.
Pabst Blue Ribbon and red wine
Marlboro Reds. Marlboro Reds. Marlboro Reds.
Soft inked skin
Eyebrow scars
A scared fragile boy in an army suit
Head shaved
French pressed coffee
Nabokov passages read aloud
A beautiful perfect voice
Gentle touch
Control
Taste and smell.
A vinyl collection
Green walls, black and white photographs
b.
c.
g.
I haven’t really written a poem since.
maybe it’s time to start again.
One response so far
If it were not so dark in this shed one could better
see the white.
It is that very perfume
has drawn the darkness down among the leaves.
Do I speak clearly enough?
It is this darkness reveals that which darkness alone
loosens and sets spinning on waxen wings–
……yes, I think time to start again…..