Untitled

Written in the East Village, NYC, in the spirit of confusion and melancholy acceptance

Fare well
sweet effigy
It was strained
in the pale noon of today

Seeped and then trickling as
a string of cascading pearls into the
Reign of a damp mangy darkness
Brooding until dark integrates with gray - who
plays with light's long silver
iridescent fingers
that are limitless
They have no edge

And to where vanished
the essential boundaries
that stitched
My variable happiness?
My sanity?
My love?

A figment
now a parched flower
untrusting
sucked of its
water
It needs water
I need water

And so, with a haggard cough
these washed events continue on their course
An uncertain span of the inklings of time
Needling
Pillowing
Scattered to the
sweeping, irreversible
winds