I don't believe for a moment
That the subtleties of your
Hips swaying generously
Were anything more than
An invitation into darkness

Cold, covered black space
I too, dream of death's release
We make whole black skies
And white moon devoid of
Stars and the wind that conjures ghosts on top of waves now creating violently is what neither of us has the power to refuse a dance that is reckless and wanton like the skin beneath the feathers of a raven rhythm can release desire and bones of lives once lived now in decay and in company of only tears in the fabric of the universe that extinguish by default and design
color,
sound
and light

Raise gray rocks as anthems to a new god
Wash and steal the sand
Backward into abyss
I don't believe for a moment this was anything less than a kiss

Rose cracked red dawn
and all who sailed
were now alert
to the law

of reaping and sowing
and things concrete
broken by tragedy

Start a Religion

Cool your breath, like orange leaves
the color of fire on the ground
welcome death, a blank tree
tall
and proud
we could plan a wedding or
start a religion, beginning at the end
waiting for a cold embrace
and more sideways glances

from the followers
or guests
reap a harvest that lies
heavy on our chest

we can build a fire
or flirt with death

the exhaust from either
would thrill me

invent new dances
and dreams, set vividly
against the now quickened sunset

orange is the color of my love
and it burns quick but goes down slow
languid is the turn of the earth
I teach in this sordid ritual

spirits are in agreement
but are they guests or will they follow
us into a clouded, cool night?

These are the fallen leaves
autumn leaves behind
the dirt that was once alive
and kind

dance the orange twilight
in seduction turn her black
the robes of broken dreams
and the past season

conjure new ghosts and new demons
we can build a fire
or flirt with death
plan a wedding
or start a religion.

At the Intersection of Harlem & Foster

You never hit the gas
when the lights turned
green it rained and we stalled

My friend, can you understand
there is an angel in the backseat
that you are ignoring

and the streets swell with the water
of your complacency, tears of lovers
you left at the last light

kid, if you keep here stalled at a green
light, enthralled by the devil ahead
we can't move and I can't help you