Two Sonnets


A brief blaze on the pavement. A slow drunk with
a dark towel. I don't want to tell jokes, I want to
win the lottery. I subscribed to the new, not impractical
way of being, the inconspicuous, the incomplete.
A healthy stare and the skin which darkens and
the evening. A joke and you can kiss that seven hundred
dollars goodbye. I'm wrong. She's sitting downstairs.
A flower waits in the pool which is my intoxication.
A man walks into a bar. Seven hundred dollars later.
A blaze on the pavement. A darkened evening.
The skin. I'm wrong. She sits downstairs.
A healthy stare and the skin. A joke. I'm wrong.
A slow drunk. A dark towel waving in the evening.
Seven hundred dollars. A new, not impractical way of being.


A light puff of smoke in the warm air.
Descending and ascending. Off with the flowers
which were bought for you. The air knowing
everything. Get on your plane. My country
is big enough for me. And yours for you.
A light puff of smoke in the warm air.
Descending and ascending, no matter.
The workday for the worker, the paycheck etc.
The flowers which were bought for you.
The country. A puff of smoke. The heat,
lightening, the heat, lightening, the heat,
lightening, the heat. No matter. A puff of
smoke. A light puff of smoke in the warm
air. Nothing I'll ever say in your ear.