Bleeding feet.
Boot-soles torn in jagged stripes...

Bird girl
huddles by the gates...

From stale mouth, I mutter, “How honeyed!”
and lumber shamefully away...

I am the stream,
tripping down the trail...

The girl in the showy, daisy lace dress
in the form of Dian, crowned with volupture...

I dreamt of you again last night.
You’d got ahead and were 6’5...

PRE-POEM NOTE: This is a sarcastic poem about what...
All join hands...

Logic is a crystal warrior
Brave face sculpted bright as a glacier...

There’s a spot.
An insect in my eye...