In The Upper Room

Like a collector with the magnifying glass:
A devilish game o’ lentils.
Pastry and haberdasheries and petticoats,
Wild smoke engulfed in naïve nostrils,
A pencil’s scratch on the paper cloth…
Newspapers barking at your coyness.
In the darkness of the clothes
A jaunty syllogism wounds the flesh.
Steam, smog, haze.
Let all this go through the mirror, pass and return
Into the broken world they left
For just one sigh.
Time enough for me
To go
Upstairs
For good.

Down To The River

The night I went to the river
was the night you set
the hummingbirds free.

The night I went down
to the river you
danced naked with the
devil high above in the
old chestnut tree.

The devil was laughing
and laughing and laughed
peeling off all the
youngish debris
in my head.

The night you saw me down
by the river
keeping your breath
locked deep in the chest was
the night when I
finally sowed all
my desires in a
purposeless quest.

I met you tonight at the river
and everything went
with the beat
poor devil
poor oath
poor dancer
of a love’s lover leap.

Right now in the
deafening light of the river
I uphold the scorn
of your impatient age.
The devil laughs
at the gates of the church
and asks for the fee.
You’re ready,
you’ve waited for it,
and you give him
your beloved scar
from under your knee.

Last night I went to the river
whilst a soft wind spread kindly
the moon dust on the flowers’ frail scent
you wore fruits, feathers and leaves in your hairs
you were dancing
the only dance for me to the end
after taking the oath
of blood, sperm and tears
to correct this unbearable burden of love
so foolishly spent.