Seldom is the heart so massive as the shop is expansive
Often is the paradigm shifted for the male to be expressive
Common is the tongue upon the ice maiden to reveal the highest truth
Least is the result if you do not speak to me before acting.

You see, there were men of great fortune who knew the seas and karma
And they stepped forward to fathom the nauticals with great height
And confidence with each step that brought dangers in night-time for the drama
About the allowance from the cosmos for man to talk and not find respite.

There have not had the flow of the women to speak back
About the stammering man who has purchased the wings and planes,
So settle down and write awhile from the position of market hack
To see the left and right centralise your anonymity like a complaining whale.

This is not for me, and that is for them – what common sense!
How does that equal the youthful trials and tribulations of pounds and pence?
Yet grief is a donation from universal assistance for those who admire
That which is perpetual like the motion of art, beauty and a good ration of that which won’t tire.

[Long is the wind, Sir. Get with the new program.
The masters are those who can eat ham.
Quick are they to terror and plot the limit
Of those who would success and get with it.]

So that which started with a complaint to the hands and heart
Is not the fruition of sexual arrogance or continual counterpart;
But I have not the damask glory of some venerable blindness
To deny my muse the sophistry of advanced human kindness.

For, in years, I am travelled of a different kind of tremendous alert
That questioned the hurt and hurt and devastation on the earth.
Mirrors are hallowed when the shape of reflection is superficial
Destiny is denied me a wife for the witchcraft that left me vacant for one too many rituals.

Thus before these pages are some spent in other books
As verses complicate the simple sallow shallowness of aloneness