have loved you with solitude,
with myth,
with a lack of fragrance,
with the solemn inventories
of all objects
that don’t have your name affixed.
When the retiring face of Autumn
drops onto the world,
it is our love.

The flesh cannot be touched,
or sung of,
or lured with
the brilliance of wine;
but must lie down
with the famine in all things  -
with the stunted joys
and the lost epiphanies -
to love you without
you, leaves
always shedding as they do.

 
  I Have Loved You With Solitude: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Take 3!!! I’ll master the art of blogs and media files sometime soon, I swear!

 

 I Can't See The World: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

nd it came to pass, it came to pass, it came to pass,
with rictus and calamity, with the sinew of a tired world,
that men had explored all frontiers, that life was closed
for the weekend, was thinking of selling up and moving

away to a place with a moderate climate and waterside
views, that the world had lost shape and was considering
retirement, getting plump, forgetting Prada, and settling down
with Pluto, the illegitimate planet, to grow fat on taboo or pie

or ribs and beer. The ink must go on foot now - so long
William, farewell Petrarchus, nice try Pablo and Miss
Barrett Browning - form has nothing to offer, we are all

too tired for art nouveau - but the ink will go on foot, and tread,
and come again to greater revelations, having witnessed the
world anew - I’m reinventing the wheel - just for you.