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erin vee eye eye eye
eight in the land or romans
rhythm and commands
in erin*land
the count of files of poems
that eventual adds up
erin viii and dreaming
and progressing to another
pirouette of affection
or the raucous folk ditty of
eye eye yie eye you
are my bonita senorita
then dotting the eyes with
little poignant kisses
imagining the v as victory
or graphic delight
spinning the threads
like fables into words for
the princess of ern*land
one more for the road
like a kiss and embrace
that holds on to nuances
of delight with tenderness
that seems to go on
to parts unknown
to parts of desire
and hopefully never
parting
