There is a world out there, they say
something real to touch
like a wild chestnut glimmering in
quiet autumn rain.
A rustling leaf, fleeting above
a sleeping summer meadow.
The child’s playful fingers
on the tree
in a happy wait between
the snow covered swing and the sun.

NOSFERATU
And she said

“On the wings of Night
he came to me once more.
with dread I willingly
bore my breast to his cold caress
as I had done before

I fell into fever’s delusion.
My blood began to flow
and we became as one.
A sudden thrust
and my womb was seized
by the fire of his seed
in painful ecstasy.

Day put an end
to night’s gentle savagery.
And I was lost
to this world and to the next.

in the trench silt silence
slitting neuron night crush
hope glitters up
and stains the books
dead poets eyes
dust cover falling
beneath the droll words
rushing like a mantle
crumbling in a cry

here in this hiss
sticky glimpse the life
behind besmirched frames

footsteps of grit
to window seek
slowly there

Passion I hear you
cellophane longing
unwrapping a new
book of love

In this waiting room I sit
old eyes are red from lack of sleep
hospital chair don't ever fit
wall clock's hands just barely creep

Stomach wanting to vent gas
as it rebels from vending food
but I refuse to let it pass
unlike some here in this brood

All the magazines areold
the newest May of oh eleven
one has even grown some mold
this place is near reverse of heaven