Allah o Akbar
From the mosque mikes...
They they they
so sick of they one could outline...
Beauty can fade
like a tainted rose, or...
I may look strong,
But I am weak...
I drift
like Last-Birthday’s balloon...
The nothing new—
another verse and all...
Eyes peel to the pang-
with its beats...
Weak Scottish sun streamed
and pattered...
Your smile
shone like reflections that opened...
You might ask me who? Where? When? Why? and How...
It all came, as the wind comes,
a silence too deafening for mortal ears...
I go through bookstores
Like my friends go to bars...