two poems

One night in late September. The insects are
flying among the people, and it's a warm night
blanketed in low cloud.


The air still dark and the night still quiet.


What do you seek when you don't seek love,
in these webby passageways and in bathrooms?


Feng-shui of bathrooms... find them resting in
the plughole and the shower-curtain, smelling
the water, the nudity and toilet. Here is life, they
conclude.


The long-legged stars are looking for
something deeper than love. But that is love!








*




Above the blanket cloud, the starry sky is colder.
You pent your love in.


You were loyal,
your rainbow brightened,
by draining the sky of light. You loved so much,
that to prove it,  you made a bonfire.


Feudal to your love, you feuded,
neglected the concourse and slighted the glade,
stared through and scarified until
your heaven was empty of all but the one fierce car.


The debt for this desert falls due,
at last you will hate even the one you love.