The grand highway
is
crowded
w/
lovers
&
searchers
&
leavers
so
eager
to
please
&
forget.
Wilderness.
Where'd you learn about
Satan - out of a book
Love? - out of a box
Poet of the call-girl storm
She left a note on the bedroom door.
"If I'm out, bring me to."
I am troubled
Immeasurably
By your eyes
I am struck
By the feather
of your soft
Reply
The sound of glass
Speaks quick
Disdain
And conceals
What your eyes fight
To explain