Why do you, you fool, continue harming your own luminance? I would laugh and then sleep contentedly had I not loved you.


Dancing under peas,
Killing time while watching
Freezes my aversion of rhyme.

Rumi lies waiting for me.
Expectantly I look out
My four-paned window

A willing receptacle violins
Find in me
Chasing away ghosts across pages.


(My tribute to Nabokov, today.)

Bit~ter la-la-laughter.