Two Cohens in the Fountain

So much less than my own sick dream
sails on past love's longing scream

no skin but the weather
no season but dark
(the comforts of money
are strewn in the park)
the books are all mothballed
the pictures curled brown
filling the boxes, hiding the crown
for unfinished work
that burdens me down

stale off the shelf or flown
off the rack
my life in dank storage
straining to look back
on clouds' illusions blown apart

another breath, another day
another doubt will never pay

"It's Only a Paper Moon" The Nat King Cole Trio

First Paper Orbit

  '--well it's only a paper moon
   sailing over a painted sea
   but it wouldn't be make-believe...' 

paper high on paper stuffing

the paper link 'tween paper seasons

paper cuts in the paper route

thru paper pleading for a paper thrill

while a foaming bloom
of torn paper kisses
ends in a crumpled cuddle
off the kneeling curb

nothing but scribbled
burnt paper offerings
on fire, ashes scattered
to the wind

One Cohen in the Box

I'm so much less
than one sick dream
and yet sail on
past love's long scream

unfinished work
burdens me down
filling the boxes
hiding the crown

another breath
another day
another question
will never pay