Hey, Girl, Hey, It's the Month of May — Three Poems
Buying luck with soft licks of cash
Exhilaration alone empties your stash.
Planes cruise overhead, the planet turns
Palm tress sway, but no one learns
It’s all about love in these years.
So, how about love in these years?
...that the cruel joke is that prisons and cliffs share the same architecture: an edge you’re afraid to cross. The only way to learn which one you’re standing on is to step forward and trust gravity to reveal the truth.