Beats a Little Faster

 

               there is a tension

               in your black silken ankle

               that ripples up

               apple butter calf

               to curl and vibrate still.

               your thigh.

 

 

 

 

               Twin Peaks: A Requiem for Annie Blackburne

 

               through smashed innocence he ran

               slickly and black brightly

               "How's Annie," he said, "How's Annie"

 

               (a face curving yellow and sharp

               in the mirror.)

 

               and the future framed itself

               upon the wall

               in the rich dark stain

               of redwood and sycamore,

               and of cedar trim.

 

 

 

 

epilogue:  stained sheets

 

the rose colored dawn spills

into the empty

                     rumpled

                                  bed.

 

 

 

Metaphor

 

With tethered jaw

and clockwork eyes,

Chuckle Jim went on

composing epitaphs.

 

 

 

 

 

Lois Dreams

        In solid primaries, geometries.

        Facile tact ticks across his face

        as he lifts her with a look,

        and holds her to the moment of this place.

        This silence like a finger pressed

        to the lips of a vestal virgin,

        gently ravished by promises.

        He flies away - leaving blue hope

        and tears of crimson.