My short-lived joy ends,
when the cinema closes
and Superman wins.
The Kiosk is shut.
My hot dog is digesting.
The cola is gone.
A second joy lives
on in perennial ways.
The deep joy of God.
I will return to the Stockholm ship and do my bit to protect it (and I will recall that I emit 75 watts of body heat). I will keep in...
Chuckling at your double refraction of light, I admire your rhombohedral habit. Your clothes. Your scarlet red spanks. Like the inner...
Pectin held my life together Like in the gelled rims of apples. Polysaccharide sweet, my spur In bitter months, my fruit crumbles...
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