bebe'
ms. cubana sweet italian sunglassed
smooths out, "call me bebe', you!"
from hips tilted question mark
to other angles clues
orange fell off shoulders
landscaped velvet flame
electromagnetic navel had me
hunting for my name
black dogs and silver slopes
watched others pay dues,
drag arfing moods;
wondered 'bout those hikes
through hills and valleys.
half century flew
right by, right through.
manic trail on and on
in company of clouds.
peter pan said adieu.
shadow waved too.
awake from neverlands fade
to silver slope blades;
cutting verses to you.
comes calling
sin slow slides
from sable shadows
to heated ripenessss
she arches
apricoted curves
they slide cool silk
smooth entwined
she gathers his coil
he sheds his darknessss
rapt from dream
tight tangled spirit
brings her to herself
roll over Buktoven
Buks grave jiggled a bit
in the 5.0 Richter rumble sometime recent.
hell, who knew, it mighta been some kinda anniversary divine providence thing or merely
chance. a few freaking cracks in the earth
making mockery of smoothness. who cares.
poured half the pint on his stone and
waited until the only other visitors
were either weeping or turned away.
threw the freaking bottle as far as I could.
it didn't hit anything. dropped the cap into
the earth. stepped on it real good. a red dot.
what's it about graves that evokes offhand
humor and acts of petulant kneejerk outburst?
the cracks in the earth were as silent
as the cracks that the king makes no more.
guess I'll pick up the next posthumous
offering from black sparrow and make do.
it's not the same.
