six days

neither fluttering elbows
touched sypatico sleeves street
walk stride thronging conscienci-
ly. rattan coat dripping
drizzle, sneezes, dribbling
limp coif. grin under my
tea and stairwell.


Blogger Gdog said...

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i sewar by all flowers. Don't cry
--the best gesture of my brain is less than
you eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other:then
laugh,leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

29/3/06 12:16  
Blogger Thoth said...

supposing i dreamed this)
only imagine, when day has thrilled
you are a house around which
i am a wind--

your walls will not reckon how
strangely my life is curved
since the best he can do
is to peer through windows,unobserved

--listen,for(out of all
things)dream is noone's fool;
if this wind who i am prowls
carefully around this house of you

love being such,or such,
the normal corners of your heart
will never guess how much
my wonderful jealousy is dark

if light should flower:
or laughing sparkle from
the shut house(around and around
which a poor wind will roam

29/3/06 13:48  
Blogger panopticon said...

i agree. thanks, e.e.

comes a stout fellow in a blouse
just outside this window,touching the glass
boxes one by one with his magic
stick(in which a willing
bulb of flame bubbles

here and here they explode
silently into crocuses of brightness. (That is enough
of life,for you. I understand. Once

a little downward,embrace me with you body's suddenly
curving entire warm questions

29/3/06 14:22  

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