Frith Hilton Collection X

I wonder what your desires are

if they are unlike the hour

does your bother include any other

outside of the once ousted spats?

in the free form of things

I see you’re not just a princess

but I hitch that to what else?

what swathes this beauty that impress?

could it be a quintuple to let go too intense?

often this is my invest

evaluating how must they contest?

If I had my own kids store

I wouldn’t know how to give enough

every day ‘d be a showcasing gore

kids by windows, babies inching up

I’d file poor parenting reports

soon poor parents would be gone

but not by this door

every home grieving toys

I would have pleased the bore

they’d be my Halloween crop.

I thought today was intact

... one of those days of impasse

but when I rose to sleep, give thanks

I noticed nothing in the distance

to sleep; to dream of dud ads

as if a first time, I had your hands

and I didn’t want that other land.

When the dizzy gust patted my back

I turned to catch his past

but in his mirror I was in your arms.

A SOS for poets

ends with a row of guests

all sobriquet-owned dressed

the well-known exempted

that’s patron mo Earth

her disguise grown fret.

I have flossed the albatross

made the crass hazard bronze

perchance if you find no worms

perhaps it’s the livery of your love.

The bent on beginning

isn’t at all the half hemming

in fact, it’s a seamstress hireling.

The house next door

has a new pour

arousing none

only eyes of worth.

Since we got poor

ours and our reflection

... the drought in assault.

If I saw a kindergarten smile

I’d match my entire hide

but without having to give pride

not to display — away, I haven’t a night.

Prescient

is this living space.

Eyelets

often awful detail lace.

Unkept

the scruple from the gad shade.

Withheld

even with the holy shapes.

I wept

a jejune drape.

To forget

his heightened loss of grapes.

Inviting insisting

to drinking the distilled

however clean isn’t wellie.

He has my waist.

And she has my taste.

It’s been his futon.

Sward supine was shunt.

Man, you have me frazzled.

Deflecting to reflect.

In effect

this faith’s silence

panting of the end;

ditto within exigence.

Do I meet the princess

for you to furl our affected

or whine in a recherché desi hotel

make my love internment salted?

I used to know an old pride

wending feeling of a fighting child

've a response to the questioning tide

but not by the hawser of this day's sunrise

Isn't it this eyes that I've lied

wishing the tenebrous at this time

Have it, the by-line of one who benights

for when it's dark, I paw it doesn't hitchhike

I met a friend in the eve's height

blue moon ago in a bond past twilight

he's showed up this morn when he'd recline

with encomiast words, unguent for golden lice

It’s a map to nowhere;

wearing cartographer’s mess

boundary abutting heaven and poems

going from being by an alien titfer or a resident

en passant, the oneiric is the bounder’s lone legend

he’s by the painted wall, seen adjusting over again his lens.

My first big purchase

it’s probably this big chase

so one night, I’ll feel alive from loins to waist

how I afforded the soliloquies that put me in fame

or could it be of my natural parents when I first came?

Life is filled with expenses, what do you entertain?

I arrived but not before painting the door, saying I’m incarnate.

Sleeping berry, what now do you choose to attain?

Come let’s go give that one, love, she’ll forever appreciate.

We were kewpie dolls

it was heaven and more

our green sole love of law

what remains up this young

when suddenly, odd-abrupt

you ‘d some floral clothing on

ridge of my imagination

thrusting me its divorce

foo, bar, it was obvious

ought in the amorphous

staring for my exile nod

only a baited swain now.

There isn't much time

open your missing eyes

even thawed snow sighs

a ferris wheel like smiles

all dumplings miss ye spine

showing countenance to try

it was on hay and in sunshine.

Big on this . . .

I’m by a ravine

what else is written?

His greed was eating

taking up leaving

even in its evening . . .

death, it’s emptying.

Once, a palindrome heart melted

with her milk now a wholly fermented

her darling was by for his usual request

his tongue lapped, slapped twitterpated

and all everyone said, and too, give comment

was "oh you got . . . oh yogurt . . ." a new idiolect

he'd absolute; thoroughly ignorant of what meant

but he didn’t need his mum telling him: catch a breath

he was sure he’d loved many a cows, but alas, threshed.

He had always loved her breast

not just hers, he enjoyed opulence

but he couldn’t hold a peace reticent

he needed style, the baton by nutrients

everyone ever chanting their “yogurt” beset.

Her heart soon lost its shapelessness

he thought it petrified, somehow useless

but to not mock himself, he was circumspect

when nada changed, drought seasons hapless

he asked her what’d changed; you became my ex.

An old box of shoe

has a hunch haling troop

it's one of a group

of the old match-dupes

I met Kylie's sweet-tooths

since our do-penny brook

now I wuss out a glint, a dude

telling everyone I'm roomed

seated worst side for a book

not for any ol' reading groom

if he's selling me a boot truth