Through the Melodeon Window

Hey you, Cherry-Coke!
Yes, you
you Amish blacked
horse whip
cracking down the street.
Compel me,
opera mouthed
and gutsy.
Yeah you
you thick treaded
heel artist...
hi-jack me.
Grind it down,
mouthing the edict
to lay down my nets
and follow your fetish
through your plum cherry arbor.

Innocence

It was
and is
and ever will be
in the bottom drawer.

Paralysis strikes
watching the life run all out
the first and last hunt

indian summer
seven times faster than we
our friends come and go

The sleek lucky toe
broken not once but in two
sordid episodes.