Psyche Sausage

A blast from the past (2002), as I must skip lunch to work and have no time to primp what I had begun to prepare.















The lover waits impatiently
for what love will reveal.
A prestidigitator, it
conspires to conceal.

The author of his own deceit,
he writes while in his passion
a fictional accounting that
can brook no close inspection.

Averting eyes, he graciously
accepts what is not offered
and disregards just what makes up
his lover’s psyche sausage.

Assisted by its audience,
love focuses attention
on objects of no consequence
- a competent magician.

Hair and lips and sweet incense
eddy in the mind
but these belong to youth and will
someday be left behind.

Bugged

Bug Eyed Earl mocks me
Even he is writing
Then again
What else would he do?
Don’t tell me-
I don’t want to know.

If I hold my breath
And push
Maybe I can force
A poem out.

Nnnnnnnnnnnn

I’m trying.
Nothing seems to be coming.
I’m way out of shape.
I’ll just do one lap today.

If I hold my breath
And push
Maybe I can bug
My eyes out.

Nnnnnnnnnnnn

Are they out?
They feel out.


http://www.redmeat.com/redmeat/2000-02-08/index.html

The Kiss

The Kiss, Rabi Khan


The air that slips between her lips
Tickles past her lover’s hips
She reaches in to take a sip
Of nectar from the tender tip
So nightly pass the sailing ships
E’er a full moon does love eclipse