- Non-Erotic Poetry
- six fingers on Friday
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the halo of the fractured moon
broke by intrusion
now there is cracking all places
mostly below rocks covered
by moss educated in toxicity
curious vapors we are
interest in nationality flags
flaps diminish due to Goth
almigthy, what a distinguished lisp
stumble down a lane
up a pebble dried stream
to the pumped up rind
spitting the roasted seeds
so tasty, so slaved over
ovens that used to ingest
treats and ticks and horrific
feats mellowed in brine
the embalmers emblem
emblazoned on jacket blue
black pants, short shoe only
men, white socked
tangle laces used
to stiff chair legs
four for each
the 6 is what drew me here
her slip of wisp, her throng
her charm, cantor power
blessed spell
a hip thing, her
thighs worth sitting with
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