Were you happy then
knowing I was gone the phone of breath
in its steady held intent across years of pain the scholarship
of desire
its rent and ready made wheels, axis of the deals and death
Was she the ointment of her angoisse the cylindrical of
her offing
a perfect beat kept in time
Was that the pad , Jesus
when death by rounding
was yer closest choice
O lover of fine pens
narcotic figures gaping for "eternity"
his body dead everywhere
about like some cheap magician's soil
that was closer to the cafes and
the all night doors to your heart
(sandals sandals )
a broken cigarette across the bane of your death
breath leaking at the faucet of time
and her hungry down love
me in those
all night
drives of god
