Waterforest

I have lost my faith
Looking on, thinking about this heist
That fugitive within the spirit of my thought
I can’t hold to this moribund wraith any more
That’s the root of my consciences’ unease
Taking that you have let me be
I like your Sunday muse,
When smart kids run to church
With their parents tagging along labouring to
keep their shoes shine
And later walk home, hungry, hurrying to
eat lunch-
I like my Sunday muse
When I sit on the verandah listening to
Biggie
Worrying about his pride in bed-
Me, worrying about the space that is morrow.

Almost last

Your fear today can't distract my fear
This one hell I shall despise with pleasure
With the whole world perplexed, wondering
With a whole night of illuminating bliss
Stalled for my review.
With a woman looking out past the window
Crying.
For the memory of ever coming
And
Leaving here untouched.
This is the only realm of perfection
That I get to explain myself with
Aesthetic love, endless heaven
and a hell
U are personally courting.
Why should anyone care,
When I don’t?

The last pixel and the after things

How can I love to be interested in your reality?
When all I see is the aura of sorrowful people
Walking there laden with strange wiry baggage
The devil comes today to sign a pact with this cynic
Whose new vision he got
From the illusion the dog had
Hanging in the wrong space
This lithe feeling is discomforting
When you walk on your toe tips.