love don't reside 'round here

                   
                                    Mid June miasmas envelope the outskirt town
                                    subtly penetrating ones memory 
                                    urban streets deftly wrung out
                                    like blanched century old washcloths
                                    as I turn up King from 2nd Street
                                    peripheral junkies cower atop
                                    twilit neighborhood door stoops
                                    post evening shadows
                                    project then descend
                                    til dawn's routine annunciation
                                    disembodied natives 
                                    anticipate local rain tonight
                                    fallen from rusted havens
                                    of junkyard delectation  
                                    cemetery photography
                                    taken aside cryptic mausoleums
                                    of millennium old archangels 
                                    spun out on methamphetamine 
                                    jump starting eldorados   
                                    down soylent morning streets
                                    of degenerated desolation
                                   
                                    I had a lover
                                    she arrived somewhere between
                                    March's deafening ides
                                    and Junes platonic struggle
                                    soon to be misplaced
                                    perpetually forgotten
                                    within spring's infertile hearth

                                   A fiery bond forever broken
                                   once soldered firmly in steel, lust and wire
                                   mechanically loosened through
                                   previous weeks spent
                                   fucking with the odometer
                                   yea
                                   I've seen her countenance change 
                                   shackled to love's fatigue prone radiator
                                   a gas stove turned on high
                                   in the back kitchen with
                                   god on the back-burner
                                 
                                  
                                    
                                 
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