On the road to ruin

Apostrophes of kisses
     link passages of lips
     hitting in smiling iron
     equipped with all the
     opulence silence permits

Don’t bother to mistake
     temperance for a gift
     addiction chisels from out
     its arctic heart shipping
     to southern parts

Imbalances of bliss

     This

Talking head is its
     mouth watering piss
     into pot, burning bowls
     down to rot with thick
     clouds worn like fabric

Torn like a high man’s
     inner wish wanting to
     wanting to want it, too
     deserving nothing but
     velvet-thighed optimism

Stained coarse with

     Shit

In the veins in the eyes
     coursing ideas weep into
     confidence a sea of pride
     boiling humours transmuting
     stubborn vigilance to white

Lines suffered into baggage
     inhaled by the trunk stowed away
     in the back of a lover’s locked mind
     inside it crumbling two paths
     leading to paradise and

Pain parting if it

     Sells

Legging jets back down
     to their runaway bounding
     calves kicking at the sound
     of taking off for milk-white
     pleasure again hitting pavement

Undulating Mexican-like with feathers
     and scales serpentining across
     borders at times into hearts more
     often into jails, a loss of lots
     of other meanings draws a breath

In sandpaper-filled

     Books

     On the road to ruin