Short Kennels Poems

in the kennels of the mind - dogmas of rationality...

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Peace by in your 10 am rise
and your imaginary X1 soccer team
let you breathe by the trees
make oxygen for all

Let it be in your Sunday picnic
and kisses by mother
who you miss
On thrashed fields see the wheat kennels wither way

Peace be in your trust
and in your lost white bicycle
or for your friend that moved away
up North...

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London,
a great house standing by
a long water,
bathed by a golden sun
behind the closed doors
of the eastern clouds
that send stuttering rains
even on the hearth of summer
to salute all that pass
the kennels of the
city once they have legitimate
travel passes that will elevate
them high enough to see
the Big Ben -
a timely invention
chiming and tolling,
to remind us of our
immigrating hearts....

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