“spoken” Today in the vaguest of my dreams Winter clutter Small hands A face demonic and blue Gazes from facets Of a frail window My own sorrowful Love Is nothing But 2 keys Dangling Jingling Four wheels And someone to watch over Like the last time I say “Hey” over my shoulder, We look alike but are not the same “when” and ‘If” Somehow they are related questions Crickets and small lady bugs Snails and ants and butterflys Moths bees and flys, spiders\ In the yard there are multitudes Of insects… A spider came down to greet me And said “are those your wheels?”. To which the moth replied “why yes”…. 2 ants blue fingers A golden ghost Walks by me on the bus Bleeding fingers Too many dishes\ Buddha sits On the air And talks out his third eye My broken ear Throbs Noise Is like a flame It sounds better When spoken In verses Lettuce in a bowl And 2 many lost thoughts Discarded Bugs Live in peace With all living.