When it’s a life of illusion
and I am the Magician.
way back when, I always wanted
a twin. an older brother—a shield,
a knight. later on, when i discovered that i must be,
i am, my own brother.
Here come the words!
remember when:
she used to love to say, ‘you are dumbern a sacka hammers’
then kill herself laughing.
when oh, all right, I’ll be
your villain.
You comfy?
Now what?
House of Flowers
Gates of Love
by Zeus, it’s a lightning bolt(!)
storming expansion in our hold
(allow me to tuck you in, sweet darling,
your little duckie blanket all snug)
Halls of Power, pirates,
singing queens, sunset sold;
Flying scoundrels falling
in love, myths retold;
House afire,
Magic bold.
When it’s never smart to burn white hot
(lest you flame away)
When this side is paradise.
And when it’s my birthday.
When it’s a deep pocket and my love keeping you warm, [i hope];
when the music of the land is
the remaining wax, warmed
the velvety petals by my window.
when you are reminded of
the mint cuddle blanket,
—the warm maple syrup sound of
her voice has gotten you through oh-so much.
when the belated gift is now arriving,
when you gotta float all calm-like in the highest altitude,
when even the dog bosses you around,
(yep, still float)
when authority falls down
(yep, still float)
and you look directly at the camera.
(yep, still float)
when you put on your shades and ask who cares? the sun’s going
to explode anyway
When you make a note of it.
When you’re saved by the oh-so-many bells.
When the ASMR worksssss.
When it IS a big deal.
When you commemorate privately, quietly.
When you pay the victory forward with a light hand. Like cross-
training; use a post-it.
when the satire is too rich
for my lilylivered self;
when I want more
of The Great, please; when Russian literature appears
—synchronicity—
When I want to press a button
so most forget me.
Just the ones I pick.
Just need space-quiet.
Just for a little while.
’til i’m ready.
Please?
when it’s the psychopathy of society
or the classical descent
into madness by the sea.
when We’re Here.
when her teeth are finally ship-shape.
When researching the look of Ereshkigal for familiarity.
when the closer is so lame.
when you’re on the road to Boise—
named from the relief of woodlined water
for travelers, for trappers crossing
the Snake, the year I was born.
When it’s charm school.
When it’s the belonging of music
—that song of hers…
(And yes, the moon would renounce
her throne quietly if My Good Beauty Queen laid claim.)
When it’s the lewkiest lewks of all.
When beauty was invented, for goodness’ sake!!!
I want it,
I got it.
When roses
everywhere
are Roses.
bardic bullion 