Fogged

floodThis grey matter
This two pounds of flesh between my ears
This worrying, plotting, planning mass.
A little lower than the angels,
A little higher than a mouse.

Curmudgeons and cheerleaders
Apostates and revenants, every one.
Denial of the dream, a speckled hope
A songbird rising, a spirited mating
call in the dead of winter.

She hikes her skirt up,
hike your skirt up girl,
A little higher til the mystery’s revealed
The sunless cloudy days of your immodesty.

We all cheat ourselves, we all lie
It is the common denominator
of a childish humanity.
We speak the words of wisdom
Hollow syllables ringing through empty arroyos…

The fires of Ashkelon
and Elijah’s burning puddles
All share a vanity,
A window on eternity
Fogged by the hot breaths of passionate lovers.

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