There will be relief soon,
and lightness of heart.
Throw out the old art
and make a new start.
And when you open
your dew drop eyes,
you will see that there
is a sun in the sky.
Take the flame
to the photograph,
just get it over with.
Terminate all connection,
change all direction,
and someday the road will veer
somewhere pleasant
and you’ll be steered
to a serene connection.
There must be something,
fleeting and faint,
somewhere out there to taint
this lunacy
with a hint of fallacy,
and open the cloudy night
to the star’s light.
Painful tickles
coursing through your throat
send coughs and sputters
to every inch of
grape-skin thin packaging,
your bones and muscles and blood
close to unwrapping.
It wouldn’t be so bad,
take the tip in hand,
quick slips, soft drips.
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