Mynd's Letter; draft #4

In mynd's eye there's a letter I mean to send
but since heaven forfeits whoever it forbids
and writing is not a sin,
this bloody letter
iron rich as the rise of society,
is mailed if in word alone is mailed.

Change the rules and dress up names
maim commonality or at least make lame
and after wringing capital paragraphs to thunderous applause
we all clap and jingle our change.

Down the lane
the dapper dressed walk in unison swinging their canes
dipping quills in pitch black ink wells.
Splendor's reckoning comes as a heart wind terrible to behold
and we cease to feel the wisps of wind that sometimes soft
dance across your face on a hot summer's day.

Mixing feelings with volcano thoughts; draft #3

I can't stop mixing feelings with volcano thoughts
and sometimes you need to vomit crap before you get cuisine.

Night ride I
down tree vaulted asphalt of Martin Luther King Jr Drive.
Headlights flash and blur in my mini rear-view
cars passing too close,
but my aluminum tubes, carbon reinforced fork, and steely resolve
keep my company close as I ride on,
wheels spinning some sixty rpms on this river side ride
empty miles
the moon casting reflections in the rain flecked street
and the forest hanging overhead to the right
while on the left
mixed among the damp thirsted hunger of foliage upon the riparian zone
and the wild
geese and goslings and goose shit piling high on and along the grass and pathway:
but I who choose the road avoid gutted
mutilated rotting geese carcasses deeply genuflecting on the bike route.

Untitled; rough draft

Trouble seen but not believed
algae green water-tossed in the oceans
here at home the thermostat turns to 68
and the winter season begins.

Looks you – in the eye
of tiger black and orange lamé
better than warm showers polish morning is wax
and the winter season begins.