a cylindrical bathhouse in tierra del fuego

children dancing like steam
sweat it out
beat it out
she's a good dancer but she's got eyes for everything

icarus

boy thinks he can play
but the pieces don't wish to move
remaining rash
ever impetuous
in over his head
should've quit while he was ahead

fourteenth

spouting falsehoods is my druthers

untitled

wasted again
stumbling along ragged streets
cold to the bone
not a single contact
context
or place to call home
streetwalkers whistle
milling that way
or this
underwater
the surface is terrifying
i hope never to breach it
though i can’t stay down here forever

concerning women

i don’t trust women
their wiles oh their ways
continuously mislead
me from my mead

for at the very least
after inhibiting ambitions
and forcing dreams stale
leave me some ale

alfalfa

your orthodox cheer chants
were more than enough to crush
my heretical tap-dance
dot dash dot dot dash
indubitably