--
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
--
8.3.17
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
--
'--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
--
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
--
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