Ja, das ist mein teil...

displayed her breasts like hanging game
fresh from the woods, arrows extracted,
but nobody could disagree that they'd be delicious
over a roaring grill with the right sauce

I misted her with my eyes
and, glazed, [du riechst so gut];
she smelled like fields of honey bees.
I'd wear her pelt with drooling face –
rabid with imagination's force-fact-fiction

circle like a vulture above a lost desert-tourist

Yes! I am a long way from home.

Just click on the image to view Graffiti Kolkata 19, featuring myself, Aleathia Drehmer and others.

Hopeless but I don't know it...

Rain on concrete steps
fades to grey like your hair in the sun

if not for the temporary stain
of damp love, I've never be clean

you throw me about like a sapling
in a tropical storm; winds like hands caress and slap

waves broke on my back all summer
in that green-blue lake of your ebbing tide