Hot Breath

Canine king, find me, follow me

Whether dinnertime or downtime
Hot breath on my heels
Chops pressed ‘gainst my calf

Clickety-clacking claws, be unwilling to leave me be

Guard my steps, as I’m prone to frolic with frogs
Looking in wrong places for princes

No sixth-sense nonsense, your love

Into Saturday Night

I awakened him with a soft exhale
One that was on purpose

Long

The timing of which had nothing to do with anything
Except fate and skin and the sixth-sense that is subconsciousness

And though this was his Sunday
That blessed day of rest
Seemed unnecessary, he said

As we sank back
Into Saturday night

Feverish

For Love’s Sake

I want warning

A premonition of apocalyptic heartbreak on the horizon

One single shot over the bow of my frontal lobe that jars me

Some tingling, dear sixth sense, some tingling!

All of which I shall defy for love’s sake

Matter

What you know is there, there is
You sixth-sense the far rumble from many-a-mile 

With barometer’s grace, you notice the change 
In the air, in your knees, in the bees
An ambery atmosphere resonates now 

As it all becomes new, what you thought you knew 
Turns a corner and trouble you find

Want turns to need and then back again 
The dance in the walk of your days spins, then stumbles
Love lives deep and cannot tell why

The quiet speech inks the world and your skin
This means everything -beyond that, nothing