Thursday, January 26, 2006


Having experienced your clarity
your claret color
bouquet bazaar
and incidentally your cuts
filigrees and flutes...

I have chosen to drink
and not to taste or savor
but to empty
and finger a song.

Sing to me
in your singular tone
as a Siren brings men
to their doom.

Sing to me clear
though the wine is alone
is raging
is rakish
is resting
with a touch
here in my room.

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