Phaëthon

Easter smoking is the best. If there's a
bit of nicer weather all the better.
Yesterday you promised dad to quit, but

somebody decided that he needed

proof he was alive. A reason not to

die regretting everything preceding

is so that another day is seen by

you. The lives of people matter greatly,

not our own. And friday afternoon was

worse than you'd anticipated, sitting

in the hospital and wondering if

sadness would erupt into your heart or

not. The heat was penetrating, and the

night was longer than you thought it could be.

Twice. And off he went without a fight or

final gasp of light as morning broke at

dawn on sunday. Disappear, because the
day indeed is straying farther from the
mean. The reins are slack on sunshine's horses:
You are conflagrating but remain the same.

Metro

Riding in the

subway car a

smile catches

my regard and

in between the

subway stops I

look her over

carefully from

head to toe and

side to side. She

knows I’m giving

her the eye so

she is blushing

tries to look the

other way but

cannot help but

hold my gaze. I’m

making love to

her across the

train. The motion

of the metro

has us sway in

unison as

our two bodies

move as one, and

pressing flesh is

everywhere I

touch. I feel the

human crush come

down on me. You

are the breathing,

sweating, grasping,

being of my

underground dreams.

Firelight

Staring at the fire, I am
warming. Wonder if the sticks will
soon forgive the fire, if the
fire thanks the wood that quickly
melts to embers, maybe trying
to remember windy days of
growing at the sun.       
                                The sun has
become and landed on the trees.
Like earth, the trees are sunlight that
has cooled and coalesced, alive
because of daylight, but prepared
and going to combust or rot,
and either scatter or decay.