Extract the Juice Spare the Rod

We ate pomegranates
over the sink ignoring
the invisible eye
of previous kings.

Encaptured

Her skin is like fire
her breath, distant desire
Flowers meet
for their annual feast
any time you kiss
her meatiness white…

I Am Alone

I am alone. Stare into a light that asks no questions. Its importance your top priority. More than me. More than us.

A Sip

Intima

A poem, by Fọlábòmí Àmọ̀ó

Come, to me.

C. P. Cavafy: The last Byzantine Nobleman

I am from Constantinople, a Byzantine by descent,

Almost

free verse on life

Almost.
In three days.
It will be missing four years
to be in the middle of a
century.
To go back…

A quiet disbelief in nothing

Come on
If not, cover his coffin,

L’Afrique

Bone-marrow transplant
Au Paris
The hell & heft of it.

Ah! Bright Angel

Lucifer, you, too, are a fisher of men
and time despairs of men.
Our pride lies in the ravenous sea — 
from which we sprang —…

Dogs that love the rain

Happiness, a summer fleeting,
Gone, like sunshine after rain,
Misery, so-near-completing.
Winter’s grip remains.