Inner Inhibitions

Inner inhibitions

new age demands new sense.

from flesh of old

grows tender leaves of Valentine

from idle hands where opposites attract.

I have seen my shadow's worth

pass beyond belief, 

beyond the rag-and-bone, the bitten limbs

of time five miles accross my habitat.

no monument shall come from all of this;

this merry wood of winter,

as cold as all who touch Piccasso's skin.

there is ice upon this land where creeps the fall.

half-dead each bone now cast upon the sea,

plays mischief while the Weeping Woman sleeps.

come stand beside the hour of her need.

sunflower seed no longer breathes 

a silence one less man can understand.