Feeling homesick
all stranded
left the building
keys inside it—
no way back
He’s now so lost
Lights are on
the lamp
still shining
those shelves—
empty
Books all gone
Who’s the liar
who’s the beggar
who’s
the
thief—
This empty soul
Feeling homesick
all stranded
left the building
keys inside it—
no way back
He’s now so lost
He’s got
talent
he’s a genius
such smoked mirage—
portrait,
Pawn
under
bare light
you should
take
f l i g h t
yet,
change
of mind—
you stay
b e h i n d
tomorrow’s dream
a written
stream
of conscious
s e l f
sublimely
bored
severely
u n d e r
w h e l m e d
i want
out here
you won’t
be
n e a r
bare light—
take flight
i want you here
come back
a g a i n
tomorrow’s dream
a written
stream
of conscious
s e l f
all blurred
blue
lights
in fancy
d r e a m s
sublimely
bored
severely
u n d e r
w h e l m e d
tomorrow’s dreama written
stream
of conscious
s e l f
i write
on your page
slightly tickling
your skin
with a
white
f e a t h e r
dipping my finger
into the porcelain
inkwell—
so delicately
moist with
i n d i g o
i n k
my soft
strokes very
lightly caress
the most sensitive
creases
on your
p a g e
i take my
dripping finger,
full of sensuous thirst,
and autograph
some verse bites
on your back
c o v e r
and all night long
i keep writing
free rhymes
until you
drunkenly
fall
a s l e e p
no need
for more words
as smudged ink
reveals i am about
to lose a bird
of my own
f e a t h e r
so long,
writing lover
of mine—
here is one last
indigo ink
tickle
for your
g o o d n i g h t
p o e t i c
d r e a m s