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the truth about lying
is that we contradict ourselves
convinced that a chair
can stand in three legs
we trailblaze this edginess
thinking we can get away
with a modern germ - unscrupluously.

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dear old heart
did i miss my chance
when standing next to a tree
the lightning strikes the cow instead?

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where to jump
from my metropolitan room
and be netted by the bowl of the sky
i imagine touching the Leonid shower
arresting the dying light
pocketing the soul particle
no, no one is to die tonight
my fantasy will float in mid-air
i will watch the flood of neons
whisked the aqueduct-like freeway
will slide the window
to hiss with the tire and asphalt
and will prick my fingertips with potted cacti
here lingering in my desert space
i will malinger with marvel eyes.

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rings
need i rub the time
when as a child growing
there are but ten fingers to count
and when eleven comes i thought
i knew i have wizened in age
looking desperately for that wrinkle
like a gnarl in an oak trunk
praying for some kind of deformity
that shines, that exposes and hides
then after looking at the mirror at thirty four
felt cheated for what might have become.

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My heart is ajar
the chimed light is pressing
lovenotes are being dropped
...in a hurry
sideglances are being casted
...stealthily
and for fear of being discovered
breathing is gasped in agonal heartbeat.

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atop the 86th floor
briefly the sky opens
swiftly the wind sweeps the affair.