Lady From Elsewhen

an illicit kiss in jersey fucking city
sent his gyroscope akimbo one night
and she knows something which you cannot
if you believe it merely a trifle

inflection points in biography maps
scurry into dark recess under scrutiny
like shy but menacing cold-eyed eels
biding moments to deliver destiny’s sting

yoni not unlike the tongues of cows
insisting, not inviting, clutching raw, velcro
leaves an imprint beyond all wishing’s pull:
seed revealed once these bodies decompose

_______RS

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haiku ’18 (moon knows)

The mysterious alchemy of desire run amok, as a secret invader virus penetrating the culture via the gateway of individuals wanting, without balance. The moon, our unconscious pastness, is winning, and the fiction that reason holds the antidote rather than spiritual activity, is its concealed ally.

https://skirmisheswithreality.files.wordpress.com/2018/04/moon-knows1-e1524269905814.png?w=730

_______RS

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