Sunday, August 06, 2006

A Musical Exercise: In Which the Kids Die and a Star Cooks the Meat

This mystical frolic amid my sad dreams:
The moon glowing rabid deep in the night.

The children of starry day are gone—

slipping beyond blue, pausing briefly,
growing cold. Eye of rib roasting

upon a velvet star.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Send me this one for OCHO.

Didi