My blood is your poems, how they make love. That’s why
I’m close to invisible as a companion, not of this sexual province.


One by one. Everyone else smiling. A sober intro ..

We’re having a fit with anxiety. Everyone a worker-sleeper.
Then I remember there’s exigency in our good fortune.

Not like feeling mortal, all to the good!


Well, a few drinks later the silver range blows up! We’re

engaged about engaging — part of the work week.