.
If I could dance
I would Waltz with you to
A Little Nightmusic in Salzburg.
We could step into
Tolstoy to Troika
and blame the Guinness
for the Jig.
I’d do a Baryshnikov
to Peter Ilyich
with you as my Clara
if I could only dance.
If I could sing
you would be the
Mandy to my Manilow.
As Rudolfo and Mimì
we’d confound the Carnegie.
Masters of our own Fortuna,
December [...]

the desert sun,
relentless as a shipboard flogging,
induces catatonic states of
wistful recollection.
hard beset by shapeless
fickle
dunes and rivers of
dirt,
the eyes close and
weary legs walk unfettered in
memory.
the young boy can
taste
the scent of pine on a light breeze,
the resin of the heights.
there are scapes of steel,
sureties of adventure,
rainbowed vistas of birdsong,
long unbroken roads.
there is the eternal comfort of her [...]

i would not have you hate me.
yes, of course i remember
                         (all too well) the
sublimely splendid schemes
we drafted in the trees,
on rooftops,
to flashlight
hidden by the santa fe line
             (torch in the dungeon)
when:  you: eyes wide and heart unladen;
         i: yet unborn in the womb of happenstance;
 the world: eternally accessible for the seizing.
i take up the [...]

 
i want to smother you in violent music.
i want my hot skin to enrapture you
like a tremolo-picked guitar
screaming with desire.
i want to traverse your skin
with my fingers in
staccato
galloping blast-beats and in
legato
rousing choral backdrops.
i want my throat to vibrate
like a heavy-handed
snarling
bass undertone as my teeth
score your soft neck.
when we are together
i want my voice to fill you with
epic [...]

i hear her
          (screaming,)
sheer desperation reverberating
athwart the
eternal fruitless multiplying fields
of my imagination.
i see her
         (struggling,)
striving with the gathering shroud, the
night that would
swallow her
           (and leave her),
broken.
i am a groundling,
                  (in vain)
clamouring for
inclusion
in the spectacle.
i rage against myself,
beating and cursing the
binding
immobile walls of shit
                      (prison of my own making).
she shrieks again
                 (hunted wide-eyed doe)
and i break [...]

 
i sunder steel and sinew
like a torch in the darkness.
my edge is
keen
and the sun-rays that glide upon it
are as cool water
to the dying. 
i glut myself upon his body.
his once fair visage i
deridingly deposit upon the dirt,
left for the
judgement of the ravens.
i shall never see him
oafishly blunder into an oaken hall -
wotan cackles raucous at pretensions of [...]

i am a wolf, and i
stalk through the thickest of thickets,
the sparring spears,
and i choose my prey with
care.
the weak sheep are shunned -
no honor there in their felling.

i have scented him.
lambs are shorn in my wake.
young rams bar my path;
their flesh is carven as they stand.

i have spied him.
his horns resound through my brethren.
i approach [...]