Under The Mistletoe

How beautiful to be kissing at Christmas, Just to feel the long wingspans, We possess. A moth to a flame, is like Icarus to the sun. Our soft spot for pyromania. We are weak in the face of combustion, Our lips are always looking to burn. I look at your kerosene aura, And your saintly…

7 AM at a diner in Nashville

A diner where I ordered breakfast, Looking at all the faces, Truckers to yuppies, And here the egg doesn’t ask, Whether you wear a tie or overalls, Only what your likes are, in food. And you become humanized All of a sudden, How every kite in the skyline, Has the same skin, paper. And all…

At The Library (Erotica)

  I fell asleep on a text book, Studying, worming through books.   Making swift glances at women Who are bona fide nerds.   The glasses that embellish their faces The library chicks, pecking   On a moment in history, Opening a door, climbing in,   And we are bookies, booking a room Boggling each…