Monday, May 14, 2012


The Red Book of Love

Reach into my pocket.  I’ve a
crumpled dollar bill for love.

I believe in the phoenix
behind the curtain.  And

a kiss that crumples roses
(I wish I were a white rose

for you).  I love you like
the bookmarks of all of my

favorite boarded up book-
stores.  Anyway, what do I

expect to say, Smooch-of-
Angel at stroke of midnight?

I get lost on the tossed seas,
I guess.  My spot on the

couch gets ever deeper
as yours draws ever