I. (drawing of a poet as a devil)

...remnant,
that which departs
or that which remains?
I plead error
for surely none would choose
to suffer this bereavement
ransom-wound-price...

II. The men who murdered Che

Guevara, what about them?
How long before the price takes
its full draught of their lives,
their false passion cools, and
the money hurries away
with moths and thieves while
their history fades to a photo
of a sudden precipice or chasm.

III. Diaphanous after dark

It is not light: evening's
cool gown; density,
unlike fabric, floating,
not blown,
awash on the strand of
your fair hair-flesh.
My dark glasses see through
the gloom to your heat
boiling away like day
through my fingers, this
moment ...

IV. When writing in the dark

Do not fail to cross
your 't's' Now, nor to dot your 'i's' Now.
Do not forget to fold the corner
to point toward the beginning.
Now, do not forget to turn the page,
nor to pray for guidance; it is so easy
to find one's self lost.

V. The darkness and the breeze

remain one;
the words lie, but shake
the leaves locally
while night covers miles
and the breeze great forests.

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