Best Hothouses Poems

time slides ever to the right,
neither scabrous skidding mark,
nor faint leavings of wisdom’s feast,
only gouged furrows, upturned days,

to love only ideas of love, 
inane this hate of a cruel gentle kiss,
blackened hollow, sunken chest,
banal sacraments bless clamoring voices,
blown down a narthex like noisy wraiths,
screaming attention...

Continue reading...