An incandescent speck of light.
Sound, noise. The faded symmetries
of the downed hieroglyph,
another marriage on the rocks.
Forced entry. Doomsday prophets.
How obscene is the hench thug?
Open your eyes to a new summer. Drink a little,
let down your hair, open conversation with the
water lilies about procreation. Sing a sad
tune about the closing of another year.
-published in Poetry Offerings.