The chill of winter–

still months away, frosts my glass

of tepid, flat pop.

the wind blew

fat

and the mouth

grew lean

–emptied

of chewy bits

broken bones

and mime.

in their end

I found

chapters 1 through 10

chap books

after all–

stand-alone pieces

only temporally sequential

and emotionally bankrupt

chapter 11

is gonna have to hold

my I

is tired and

just can’t read anymore
 
 
black and white magic in ages

dubious characters lacking

themselves

scuffed up covers

with gloss from plastic sheath

I think I’ll wander

the aisle awhile

–a climate controlled

sshhh.

the

no

in now,

met

yes

from

yesterday

–decided

or

balancing

tomorrow

–could make

that

no

a

knot.

 
Brides

–whether horse, or not

need grooming.
 
 
 
 
To keep them

on the bridal path

and away from the woulds.

To comb

their hide

for bugs

and make it glossy.

To cover them

when the road’s hard,

To stall them

when necessary–

To be the

one with

–hey.

Brides need grooming,

no matter what the

breed.

UC

(at Santa Barbara)

will be my

higher education.

My

alma pater.

My

quarters

back-to-back–

&

classes

after

crashing