Muse

someday, it will be mourned
that I had no muse
but my own
madness.

You survive
the courtship
and live for the next
Commitment

of attention
yet myths don’t work
quite like that
in practice

all but sillage
stands in tribute
now, at the edge of
displacement

all but savagery
exists between us
now, bestial and
fragmented

the burden
of imperfect blood
our uncertain
hold on love

vacant humans
asleep on the punch
asphyxiating on the vomit
of a post-lunch

bender,
I figure she got sidetracked
by the bright lights and hollow
smiles

she always
was a sucker
for beguiling and bewitching
boys