The bones of a butterfly
lie dripping gossamer flesh...

(For Dylan Thomas)
Burn the night, seize the day...

The restless wind beckoned today,
Come, come ride the open road...

The abnormality of your
conformity is your deformity...

There are the eyes
always searching...

Cascading down the avenue of
melting trees and silent skies...

Sometimes in troubled introspection
in the dark corner of my desperation...

In yesterday's once was
I was a has been...

The cracks are beginning to show
internalization of...

The rain piano tinkles down
sated skin pores overflow...