caldera

there's that oedipal shimmer in your eyes again. the unkempt hair
trundling feelings and occasional sea fizz; how i wish i'd met you 
on the delta. we'd belong to our own pack of wolves

what could have made me think this abscise was tamed?
life was so much easier when i was simply a pierced faggot, 
roaming streets. piddly contributions to erosion culture

on the hot river rocks i felt the dybbuk of our former flame 
teenagers beside us drank sun-warm port with apple juice box chasers
i fear i've become nothing more than a lustful wheeze. tsuris, tsuris.

the wheat of "what is" evades throughout the chaff of "what was"
i crave the kiss of a poniard. smite me, already! 
lest i become a jaded wisp