Non-Erotic Poetrym.p.a. flying powder haiku setBattling the thick rust
of ego, the discussion
creaks out akward I's
distorted blue-eyes
gaze back from the lined-mirror
as we snort white fire
war drums hang on the
sky-blue wall, beating strange time
in leper's quiet
we burn incense
to Ganesha: richly robed
in white Christmas lights
the books on the shelf
shimmy and shake to the "beat"
of "fear city" jazz
though the moon hangs young,
we light our farewell smokes, each
off to frenzied art
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