A glowering patchwork of a man
Chin like the Yucatan
Edges his oak-soaked way toward me
Imitating nightmares
Bitter cedar emanating from him
In cringing solvent snares
On his lips is a fusion of shame
In cauterising flame
Falling porcelain leaves surround us
Autumn exudes the past
The fugue of memory no chasm
Our speech returns at last
we all seem to suffer yet again, again,
but worst of all is the lonesome plane,
we want you well and free of pain,
sweet Carolyn arising,
well again...
our wanted horizon,
bring courage within the flame...
by illness cauterising...
Don (quixote)
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