Love song of the seasons

Shall we meet on some vacation,
Soaked in summer perspiration
Or put it off till August
When the rains no longer dog us

Or shall I look for you in autumn
Seeking out your soggy bottom
Wrapped in leaves of red and gold
While your ass is growing cold

But not as cold as winter’s blast
Be you ever so steadfast
Will you be on some new caper
Despite the freezing vapor

Or, alas! not until spring
Shall I find you on the wing
Pushed along on some tornado
Nearly halfway to Laredo

Whatever is the season
You choose to fry or freeze in
I hope it’s not too long, my lover
Or soon we’ll have to start all over

Crying like the light within me

I’ve got cheap suitcase syndrome
I can’t sleep but on the roadside
under troves of leaves
enwrapped in wings of night

worms beneath my head
an apple in my eye
dust around my pants cuffs
Walt Whitman under my boot soles

did I mention suitcases?
I bank my will in them
tie strings around my navel
to remember, or forget,

whichever suits my case
like a blind wizard-boy
don’t look now here comes
another arrow