Two Poems

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Life and Love According
to Monsieur Le Mort
Ah to live, Mon Petite,
And love without limit;
For life is sweet but short,
Says Monsieur Le Mort;
And the rose of romance–
A fleeting nuance.

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Closet Poet

To whom shall he, closet
Poet, dedicate his stillborn
Epic lines? To a mythical
Olympian goddess? To an
Overbearing, fickle muse?
Or to oyster-lipped Silence
Herself as she secretes in
Her mouth the gleaming

Nacre of future speech.
Nothing in this verbatim
World matter that is unsaid.
Shy bard, unleash the blue
Skeletons of ambiguity
And bone-hard metaphors
Rattling in the dark closet
Of your dumbstruck soul.

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