Glass

Your 

Glass and beady eyes

A cross thousand yard sales

To give thousand yard stares

Filled to blue brim spice

Hips that duly tice the

Paradise that lies between

Two dunes of vice

Caps on, caps lock: The

Beggar who keeps giving

Non-stop; shops a run

Round the block

I too, beg to differ

Round bends of indifference

I scale stairs of dark

Fear clouds take form I

Pray for rain to haver definite

Respite indefinitely, like.

Run

let tears tear the world apart
let pears drop then fall apart
on field of tracks with sweet exhaust
when sweat exalts and pain exults
save the day in your head
for if you’ve saved one day,
you’ve saved the whole world
— time, that mortal enemy
frozen in constant flow —
and if you’ve written one good poem
you’ve written them all