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Personal Note:

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Poem

I was content to shut the blinds
on the nightingale,
to watch the hollow condo rise up
like a neon blue dragon blossom
to take remote control 
of my brick & concrete birthplace.

I thought a Houdini act was needed,
so much greed and weddings in melting pots
swirling the dream pot of my old soul
made new with liquor's release
into an even colder prison.

Until you.

Why do you melt me?

You belong to another future,
I to snow-laden sins yielding solitude,
yet from the depths of arctic winds
you resurrect Victor's vim and vigor,
spark his heart like a first true love,
simple ebullience a hottest promise
that his intended burial's dead at last.

Why do you melt me?

The answer never greets this tree,
though when we speak and I am grieving,
it takes strong force to hide the feeling
rocketing up into golden space;
I drank the ichor--tea for two--
on a windy day when I met you.

Have I found my Lady Tiger?
Have I found my oxygen?
Have I found pure warmth for him
that stays and tames the lion's den? 

Don't look at me with those eyes,
because if I truly wanted to die,
I'd love you most with all my ghosts 
and let you slay this giant mind.

Why did you melt me?
I wish you'd left me in the ozone
shooting up my veins with fake heavens.
That phenomenal tropical temperature
only tempts the burnished sepulcher.

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