Midnight Guitar
This midnight guitar
holds me up a little,
With her clear skin,
her varnish of beauty,
Her waist so thin,
her hips full of music.
Slowly I do begin
to feel less heavy.
Alone I commune
with ironic chords.
But still I’d prefer
to hold you, lointaine.
Felines
The cat who tickles
the evening star
with her tail
as she travels
a twilight wall
in cold blue air,
four legged ballerina
dancing on broken
glass in space,
electric princess
who finds me amusing,
exemplifies something
in her character,
not only enigmatic
grace, clairvoyance,
warm milky fur
on nocturnal patrol,
the female of duality
become compliant,
the tiger reduced to
manageable dimensions.