Coughing up Blood

Fear not, my love, for my love still breathes with me;

Far have I walked these crowded streets

And far have I felt the solitary sun.

A thousand fevers shiver in raging torrents

But the blood will not come.

The sweet acid poured down my throat

The last time we made love

Still lingers as an orgasm stuck in my throat.

Feather wishes are few and far between;

but I wish the nymphs gave me Icarus' wings.

Six Seconds (in the life of a streetcar not named)

Drowning in music

the highway stripper

turns the stereo up

unhooking his bra from the windshield

Take me for a ride

oh baby take me high; high

Let me make you rise; rise

make it last all night.

...and the teenage mustang

going from 60 to 80 over the highway

-arizona; the landscape of my dreams-

rolling, ever rolling

disappearing over the horizon

merging with the sexual landscape of clouds.

Underneath it all

the lonely old man

holding his starry skies up to the unrelenting sun

muses salvation.

Signposting barren nothingness

flashing thongs on widow sides

(our nameless adventurer

stares into the depths

of sandy clothes lying abandoned)

stripped clean of his flesh

(his heart racing; in his skin tight jeans?)