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Heron Clan Aug 6 you aren’t worth it and memories in notebook
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Heron Clan Readings Sunday Zoom You aren't worth it
Tilted umbrellas along a line of picnic tables.
Each word that comes from my mind,
Is a line you, or me, or he said
Under covers, breathing each other's air,
As my genitalia throbbed to be next to the
he or me or we
That said the words that I hear,
Staring alone along that line of tilted umbrellas.
Sigh deep to keep the fluids in,
My eyes leak, my thighs ooze, slick, my pipes, literally at my house, seep.
It’s a sieve, in my life right now,
Draining soul and sustenance from sinks, drains, showers, and
from between my thighs, out of my eyes, out of a burnt heart-
To burn the freakin' tilt out of those umbrellas.
Memories in Notebooks
He was comfortable in airports,
Remarking how tedious
the same landscape can be,
Even this beauty
Can be tiring,
I gotta go, gotta go.
Take the whirly magic
That is you
with you.
Let your wheels hit the sky
In the classic noir
Of bye-bye
Bye, Bye.
He is sipping somewhere,
Your image sunlit
and Ionian
Even its beauty, breathless,
Can be overwhelming,
You gotta go, gotta go
The magic stays swirly
with him,
The classic cantillate
Insipid intonate
Of bye-bye
Bye, bye
Bye-bye
Bye-bye...
