BRIDGES WALLS AND DOORS

liars(lovers)(artists)

execute an honest

condemned activity

misshaping reality

art is a seed a hedge

love is a need a bridge

that connects a leisure

to unextinguished torture

greenest seeds weed their way

from criminalities

too covert to commit

and too active to stay hid

the right to scream is held

only by us tortured

the will is a wall made

to support or separate

the corpse is tradition’s

usual exhaustion

of palettes and menus

and an unfreedom to choose

love and art are the words

used to mimic or urge

the word is a closed door

but an urge opens the door

COUNTING THE COCKS IN THE HEN HOUSE

How many celebrants have danced in your penetralium?

Your hangar has sheltered how many planes?

COME THE REVOLUTION

Which among you shall being sandwiches?

And who’ll organize the selfies?

Which manifesto would you execute?

“The sky must be purged if the earth is to prevail!”

“The earth must be buried for Heaven to reveal!”

Which Utopia would you provoke?

Which of the pasts should be banned?

But don’t be the freak hot on the runway

or the gangster in church.,

don’t be the priest caught in the whore house,

or banker man in the line-up.

[The democracy entered upon the struggle with dictatorship heavily armed with sandwiches and candles. — Trotsky]

IN MY DEFENSE

And dark it was, yes, and I: alone

but full unwilling to succumb

and weaponed she: silk&smile&cologne.

Yet I still could hold my own

till lastly, Your Honor, did she come

at me with All the moon.