Smuckers Masterbation

My bucolic
steps have been exhausted near the threshold of your lost smile
boilers bursting at the heartless pride that cremating sacred talismans
slopes of two lives .

This black stormy months

verses transparent strips
me locked in prisons of words over that one killer
November lives

quiet in a tomb adorned with the leak

thankless of roses with thorns.

In discussing love as something solitary
assails me that look
anchored in mine and my memories of winged star
eat what I was gagged dying

by your oath perpetual face away

I call this bonfire reverse
Prometheus to Olympus and their loot
prodigue me the secret of the Hesperides
in fine flakes of birch,
air chambers and clearance

clouds without eternal return or perhaps a ghostly
to ride Pegasus up
infinite cosmos where it can not write these rhymes so damn