Rounding the bend again, bitten mountain,
arid orange clusters are the same.
Past the cemetery, Julia and I claw

 Pleasing, plump, and completely pig:
Bottom-barreling boys who alternate wholly.
Cocks bursting, all over the bed, bungholes
By tongue and groove, illicit abundance

The town is a whistler
turn on a rock
The water runs a working curve

Glad we met
you
he told the guest

how ‘this age’
        will bear it   

Again that weary day when He must share
The wickedness of men who do not spare
Him birth. See now they penetrate His will,

My absent God does not disown
That timeless joy He lives alone;
He does not seek as once his own.

Once, quiet meant discord and pain;
My frantic mind willed hurricane
To blow away its disbelief,

i put on yr forgotten sweater
to cherish the cold breezes
that steal into my room

It is seven A.M and raining
when I awaken in my berth
in Kansas City. Mo. The Midwest.