Treasure hunters 
 seeking the minds on the beaches of such boombastic features

 Lights glimmering
 the soothing breeze, shivering crisp leaves
 leaving the grey autumn skies behind to find a more promising bind 
 they shimmer to the ground

 Disintegrating in inferno 
 Without objection 
 forgetting interludes
 complexion
 fading into the gradient of mascara and tears
 plates begging for food
 Kind hands searching
 grappling the fervors

 The wooden crutch leaning in the corner
 the last broken bone, pincering the trance, the enflaming glance 
 into the smothering past

 And the phone rings off the hook
 like a crook
 Harvesting the bunch of fingers
 hair, moan, satisfation lingering
 on hold
 His plush, fair
 painting the mural of mare
 touching, he smooths over wrinkles of age
 And with a forceful embrace he twists the lock on another cage
 forever lacing her into a straightjacket of the lights' glimmering stage.

         
              11/17/98