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mixed
tonight, my only
companion,
the familiar cricket shrills
scarecrow
the impatient twitterings
of birds
the prostitute tells
the gigolo she patronises;
"dont pull my leg."
privilege of
a large wingspan -
a peace sign at will
clocks in room -
their hourly
chiming contest
the god
in the medium asks -
for his name
craze over actress
she begs plastic surgeon
to have her eyes
boutique window
a row of little pots
each with a sunflower
morning fog
the distant island
appears and disappears
