VanAgain

Our passions spent,

and spent, and spent,

we lie entangled,

naked-warm,

and turn our minds

toward our minds

and nuzzle thoughts

in speechless form.

I place my life

upon your life

and see them merge

within your eye.

You place your hand

upon my hand

and think, "I will,"

and so do I.

Our passions spent,

and spent, and spent,

we lie entangled,

naked-warm,

and turn our minds

toward our minds

and nuzzle thoughts

in speechless form.

I place my life

upon your life

and see them merge

within your eye.

You place your hand

upon my hand

and think, "I will,"

and so do I.

Our passions spent,

and spent, and spent,

we lie entangled,

naked-warm,

and turn our minds

toward our minds

and nuzzle thoughts

in speechless form.

I place my life

upon your life

and see them merge

within your eye.

You place your hand

upon my hand

and think, "I will,"

and so do I.

The dotted lines

are scribed with legal precision

on blameless flesh.

She's won the tender bits,

the steaks and chops and loins,

severed from an unknowing carcass

by counsel's steely pen.

I cherish my remnants

my tender flanks

my stewing child.

Starkly worded paragraphs render

the remaining carcass

to be ladled out

for holidays,

nothing wasted,

nothing left

to the vagaries of childhood choice.

The dotted lines

are subscribed with callous penmanship

in desperate awareness

of an undivided heart.

My bonus clause lay

in her guileless tears on my workshirt

during those weekly homeward drives,

each salt-kissed droplet

freely given,

unfettered by legalese,

an innocent def

The dotted lines

are scribed with legal precision

on blameless flesh.

She's won the tender bits,

the steaks and chops and loins,

severed from an unknowing carcass

by counsel's steely pen.

I cherish my remnants

my tender flanks

my stewing child.

Starkly worded paragraphs render

the remaining carcass

to be ladled out

for holidays,

nothing wasted,

nothing left

to the vagaries of childhood choice.

The dotted lines

are subscribed with callous penmanship

in desperate awareness

of an undivided heart.

My bonus clause lay

in her guileless tears on my workshirt

during those weekly homeward drives,

each salt-kissed droplet

freely given,

unfettered by legalese,

an innocent def

The tabs taste acrid,

phantasm yellow,

calmness distilled

to constituent elements.

Courage crushed

and re-formed.

I pop one,

an act of

cerebral sleight-of-hand,

and await its sly deception.

I crave

a pharmaceutically stabilized

return

to the days before the darkness,

when my stairwell

promised passage

to a vibrant life,

a bath of color and light,

a beckoning seat

at the feast of man.

I open the door,

assume my chair

to strike my vigil,

staring

at the grayscale cityscape,

dank walls

parged in sharkskin hues,

the very wall ivy writhing,

and await

my miracle

The tabs taste acrid,

phantasm yellow,

calmness distilled

to constituent elements.

Courage crushed

and re-formed.

I pop one,

an act of

cerebral sleight-of-hand,

and await its sly deception.

I crave

a pharmaceutically stabilized

return

to the days before the darkness,

when my stairwell

promised passage

to a vibrant life,

a bath of color and light,

a beckoning seat

at the feast of man.

I open the door,

assume my chair

to strike my vigil,

staring

at the grayscale cityscape,

dank walls

parged in sharkskin hues,

the very wall ivy writhing,

and await

my miracle

​

A phrase of terse fatality

it smacks of musicality,

and ushers in finality,

bad news for my poor bladder. 

I had cancer.  Let me rhyme. 

The stark fact of the matter,

and what makes me all the sadder,

is I miss the splash and splatter

in the toilet at bedtime.

When I assess the cost to me

of my recent urostomy

I grapple with the loss to me

of manly sex appeal.

A sac now hangs in front of me,

designed to catch me when I pee.

My intestine juts out of me

and sometimes breaks the seal.

Then urine seeps into my pants,

I do the classic peepee dance,

and sheepishly seek out my chance

to leave and change my bag.

But still the icy pain is gone,

I'm cancer free and now

A phrase of terse fatality, 

it smacks of musicality, 

and ushers in finality,

bad news for my poor bladder.

 

I had cancer.  Let me rhyme.

 

The stark fact of the matter, 

and what makes me all the sadder, 

is I miss the splash and splatter 

in the toilet all the time.

When I assess the cost to me

of my recent urostomy

I grapple with the loss to me

of masculine appeal.

A sac now hangs in front of me,

designed to catch me when I pee,

my intestine juts out of me

and sometimes breaks the seal.

Then urine seeps into my pants,

I do the classic peepee dance,

and desperately seek out my chance

to leave and change my bag.

But still the icy pain is gone,

I'm cancer free and n

​

A phrase of terse fatality, 

it smacks of musicality, 

and ushers in finality,

bad news for my poor bladder.

 

I had cancer.  Let me rhyme.

 

The stark fact of the matter, 

and what makes me all the sadder, 

is I miss the splash and splatter 

in the toilet all the time.

When I assess the cost to me

of my recent urostomy

I grapple with the loss to me

of masculine appeal.

A sac now hangs in front of me,

designed to catch me when I pee,

my intestine juts out of me

and sometimes breaks the seal.

Then urine seeps into my pants,

I do the classic peepee dance,

and desperately seek out my chance

to leave and change my bag.

But still the icy pain is gone,

I'm cancer

A phrase of terse fatality,

it smacks of musicality,

and ushers in finality,

bad news for my poor bladder.

I had cancer. Let me rhyme.

The stark fact of the matter,

and what makes me all the sadder,

is I miss the splash and splatter

in the toilet all the time.

When I assess the cost to me

of my recent urostomy

I grapple with the loss to me

of masculine appeal.

A sac now hangs in front of me,

designed to catch me when I pee,

my intestine juts out of me

and sometimes breaks the seal.

Then urine seeps into my pants,

I do the classic peepee dance,

and desperately seek out my chance

to leave and change my bag.

But still the icy pain is gone,

I'm cancer free and n

The tabs taste acrid,

phantasm yellow,

calmness distilled

to constituent elements.

Courage crushed

and re-formed.

I pop one,

an act of

cerebral sleight-of-hand,

and await its sly deception.

I crave

a pharmaceutically stabilized

return

to the days before the darkness,

when my stairwell

promised passage

to a vibrant life,

a bath of color and light,

a beckoning seat

at the feast of man.

I open the door,

assume my chair

to strike my vigil,

staring

at the grayscale cityscape,

dank walls

parged in sharkskin hues,

the very ivy vines sarcastically writhing,

and await

my miracle

The tabs taste acrid,

phantasm yellow,

calmness distilled

to constituent elements.

Courage crushed

and re-formed.

I pop one,

an act of

cerebral sleight-of-hand,

and await its sly deception.

I crave

a pharmaceutically stabilized

return

to the days before the darkness,

when my stairwell

promised passage

to a vibrant life,

a bath of color and light,

a beckoning seat

at the feast of man.

I open the door,

assume my chair

to strike my vigil,

staring

at the grayscale cityscape,

dank walls

parged in sharkskin hues,

the very ivy vines sarcastically writhing,

and await

my miracle

The tabs taste acrid,

phantasm yellow,

calmness distilled

to constituent elements.

Courage crushed

and re-formed.

I pop one,

an act of

cerebral sleight-of-hand,

and await its sly deception.

I crave

a pharmaceutically stabilized

return

to the days before the darkness,

when my stairwell

promised passage

to a vibrant life,

a bath of color and light,

a beckoning seat

at the feast of man.

I open the door,

assume my chair

to strike my vigil,

staring

at the grayscale cityscape,

dank walls

parged in sharkskin hues,

the very ivy vines sarcastically writhing,

and await

my miracle