Wild-eyed And Wooly Rebel Have-not

Unfettered 
From the commonplace 
In the wilderness 

Of his thoughts, he keeps 
An eye out for any 
Encroaching 

Domesticated strays hell- 
Bent on shaping
His made-to-order universe

Into a world full 
Of nothing but empty 
Have-lots of naught. 

Elusive Poet's Clearly Indefinite Longing

I want 
To describe 

A certain indescribable 
Hue of yellow 

By looking closely 
At how 

I cannot.

Discrete Series Ruse Number One

Muse, no matter 
Where or when 
I find myself wanting, 
Without fail I try 
Sounding out 
Those most discreet— 
Yea, coy even, vocables— 
By counting back- 
Wards from a hundred, 
Always coming up against 
That most singular constant 
Loneliest one, my old friend.

Mooning Narcissistic Voyeur With Diplopia

Peep, 

It’s at least quadruple your usual 
Dose of swooning when 
You see how rosy- 
Cheeked everything looks 
In the looking glass when 
You spy two of you spooning.

Sleeping On It Another Day

Make no mistake, my friend— 
Before you venture 
Out into the blinding 
Light of a new day, 
Pray you do not 
Hesitate to leave

A helpful farewell 
Note to the troubled 
Self you’re leaving 
To fend for it- 
Self in the dark
Behind you—

Before you 
Know it, your turn will  
Come round again, fail-
Safe and eager too, 
Make it your day.