Nervum Tibulum

Diabolical twitch

in the darkness;

singer in the light.

 

I’ve come to

 

winking at the fly,

its odd caress

and back of a turbulent sea;

 

and whistling

over wings

of a wet gnat.

 

At day

I load my beanbag

with the cat

 

and another three yak

 

of what they

kiss and kill

at their backs.

 

At night

I shake the moon

as I fit fit fit

 

and FALL,

like death over lark.

 

2017