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Flying in couples
Ten crows silently trumpet
Spring is in the air




Plays out Don Juan trope
Imagining them all his
Spends his life dreaming

The slippery slope
Into desire’s abyss
And ends up screaming

Goin’ Home


You have your keyboard with you
plus I see you brought your keys along too.
As for me: I have as you see brought my horn along.

No bass required to intervene, as agreed. Too basing.
No superfluous traps either. A binding promise.
Let’s go play the blues then. Melt into one another’s I’s

Country sounds good (when using ears rather than eyes)
while delta seems inviting also. Finger style?
I’m more than willing if that’s your choice.

Twelve bar, sixteen bar, thirty-two bar if you like.
Muddy water. Let’s dive in and search for a pearl.
Fare thee well. Forever. See you on that other shore.


In His Cups


A sip of wine
A hint of melody …
Hallowed foundations
Shift ungoverned

Melt into lavaflows
Unleash unadmitted yearnings
Challenge this paltry masquerade
Yelled from minaret or pulpit

Hounded by fatwa and heresy
Across the centuries, this dented I
Which has, for all of that brouhaha
Such shallow roots

Must be why they ban
These dangerous demons
Intoxication, music,
Dancing, sex

While we for our part
Fight tooth and nail
To retain or else regain
These royal roads


A Handful Of Sexualities


Four fingers, one thumb.
Various parts; the same hand.
Words; names; attitudes.
Different, not separate.
Cut one off and all feel pain.



A gentle tease. Oh where shall I wander?
Upstairs? Downstairs? In my lady’s chamber?
Pictures within my mind take form, a game.
Hoping that she might be doing the same.

Wet Dream


Flesh! Bang! Wallop! God!
The tide washes over me
And I awaken

Fairy Tale Wood


Boundaries there were
When first I ventured but now
Crumbs eaten by birds

At home in the wood
Where we meet one another
Time and space unborn

May Revolution (¡barco a la vista!)

MAY REVOLUTION (¡barco a la vista!)

Oh such a permissive month May
Fresh blossom novelties bursting forth
Every which way and where and willy-nilly
Without any “May I”s, or “By-your-leave”s
No, no so bothersome “Riddle-me-why”s

“Just Say No” gone so out of vogue now
Tie-dyed t(r)ees are springing back to life
In a collective shouting of “Just Say Yes”
Or else, more coyly “Just Say Maybe”
“Oh may I, may I, may I please?”

Even White Folks Get The Blues

I see women here, yes, but no black folk yet.
One day before I pass over? Il faut espérer.

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