LONELY RIMBAUD
Lonely Rimbaud
Walking at night
Lonely Rimbaud
The stars rub on his face
Lonely Rimbaud
And his poor clown heart
Lonely Rimbaud
Sings the stars a song
Lonely Rimbaud
Marching in the wheat field
Lonely Rimbaud
Trudging through the sand
Lonely Rimbaud
Stepping about the forest
Lonely Rimbaud
Climbing up a mountain
Lonely Rimbaud
Sliding down a dune
Lonely Rimbaud
And the rabbit looks at him
Lonely Rimbaud
And the wolves change their path
Lonely Rimbaud
And the camel spits at his feet
Lonely Rimbaud
Doing math in the desert
Lonely Rimbaud
Dipping his pen in dusty ink
Lonely Rimbaud
Crossing the sea
Lonely Rimbaud
Tossing and seeing
Lonely Rimbaud
Making love over and over
Lonely Rimbaud
In an abstract of love
Lonely Rimbaud
Drinking absinthe
Lonely Rimbaud
Not caring for a while

ACHILLES IN HIS CUPS
When Patroklos died Achilles screamed
and the clouds rained down
because they thought it was thunder.
His long locks cut and laying
on Patroklos chest,
Achilles raised his cup and said,
“This is the funeral of the living.
I have been told
that heroes become immortal.
Then, what is there to do
but march on
with memories of the future.
This is the land of the living.
Sometimes I feel
I could be king.
But what is a king
but a focus point
for small men’s eyes.
Here is a goblet.
Do not fear the end.
This wine of words
you shall remember
when the end
is in the past.”

I WAS ULYSSES SAILING ON A SEA
I was Ulysses sailing on a sea
and I could not get home.
I had lost the compass of your eyes.
The sea was another’s bed.