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What a night it was, when I realized
I have myself, and shouts of victory
sings, claps, praise a release that
doesn’t wait for you to recognize
validate my breath as it breathes
for the night’s fresh air, with it’s majesty
of stars, glory that is the moon, with
the coming sunrise, I kiss absurdity’s latitude.

OCHROID

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While everyone is sleeping, I lay awake
wondering what is holier than listening
for when finding the hum of your breathing
nothing else exist but this joyous jubilee
suddenly, the inanimate becomes alive
imagining golden horizons staring back at me.
Like a stray dog, I point my nose to the eclipsed
moon, begging for your scent, your sun, I wander
in circles, shivering on the last spot you stood saying
goodbye, I howl my loneliness for everyone to witness.

Elma

If what she says is true
being is to be wretched
with fences
outwitting what’s coming
like vermin in hiding
dingy corners
keeping time to the purring
every night from everyday
late as sunrise praying
to outlast these insomniac twilights.
Being wretched as a mule
skinning her teeth to every muse
sucking on someone else’s
perversion
chasing it all down
with leave-meh-somes
somes liquor for later.
If what she says is true
I’ll be waiting for Orion
grazing on the green
chewing to one side
androgynous
as a pregnant goat’s
lazy eyes
daring slaughter.