Pomegranate.

The eye’s taping the unattended walls

from room to room for perfumed desires 

of a Powder coated rubbings of this planet 

a Home from home if wasn’t so faraday 

into this parable I’d return.
As I make my way to leave this pomegranate 

Programmed World of ballerina’s and frozen days 

To the checking gate to Chew on the vodkaised 

literature of the dead On familiar bookshelf.
As strange strays that Dreamt of moccasin 

boat adventure and sombreros races 

and return to wager their tails on steppes 

and let me know.
we must venture on Into this life 

Having landed alone like a spotted friend  

Who Like me could have be a spotter 

Racing In this life and orbiting into the next. 

Advertisements