Reverence Returns Hopefully

She's dressed like a girl i once knew
over my shoulder
i'm low to the ground picking through needs
no meaning
but maybe one key
****
in the mud i sat waiting for
some bird to bring me food
but there was only their pleasant chirping to fill
my soul if not my gullet
****
hearts carved on trees
simplify matters
to the necessities we stretched
looking for some kind of order
in her flower eyes and his jittery smile
in hands marching together
first becomes last
meekness in each becomes strength
upon which we rebuild
the hanging gardens of babylon
****
freaks of the night parade
pledging allegiance to miniature satans
they are my love
old women tending chinese gardens
with great grey manes of storytelling finesse
they are my love
passionate hearts drunk with irridescent lust
perched on telephone wires with the other birds
they are my love
all this time you've wondered
what role time plays in the forming of us
heated and scented your bathwater awaits
my tender stomach
after tearing myths asunder
unspecified quantities of light and dark
shift across her face
come into contact with sweet sips
and tasty nips
lovely dreams of nighttime trysts