Ancient Fog

Distraught iron clanging
through ancient fog
forewarns gaudy certainties.

Epitaph

Epitaph on the tombstone 
of a taciturn man:
FILL IN THE BLANKS

 The world darkens,;
 last possibilities sigh
 with plum-orange whispers.


 These penny candy machines,
 become a nickel, dime, quarter;
 then gone.


 Hungry Ghost Moon;
 blue flame temptation
 to the demon dance,
 at any cost.


 Foghorns bleat arhythmic tales;
 midnight gunshots penetrate
 ocean dreams.


 Deeper,
 below bone and ball
 and tasty tidbits,
 resides loyalty.


 Insatiable hunger for
 bullet transgression,
 beyond decency.


 Vermin scare sparks
 disquiet alarm;
 surge of toxic indignation.


 Enigmatic intensity
 sets the dialogue
 of the city.