Meditation was futile.
He turned his back...

I was learning, how
not to catch you...

Mooneater, I am my poem:
fantasy of words...

Rhetoric had a theme
like crab-grass to destroy the lawn...

Trapped necklace:
after a kiss of bee...

The spill overwhelms-
the bank. The fish...

I collect the unknown fears,
better than the known...

Death will not listen;
still, the candle burns...

You come home,
to a genocide of sperms...

It was getting dark.
The insane curve of greed was rising...

Climbing
on the celestial pole...

Man becomes a bee
assaulting a rosebud...