Hookah Date
two suffering researchers
royally alone like the thunder in my locket
one a half-price stanza calligrapher spinning cock and bull tales
the other an eight sided empire awkward as a cow with crutches for thumbs
their large builds meet at a square earth’s rounded corners
their mutual gate scored by the purring of rugby saints
their descendants carrying the salmon pink luggage of tyrants
pupils glisten like the syrup of their souls in the doubt simulator
as they witness the invisible speech of a perpetual snow
shaking loose their crowns of preference, the licorice gator
swallowing up restless chapters, opening the air door wafting
she hugs the vision of ancient deeds the child heart
spiral notebooks, kegs of sake, herbal banknotes
in the field of dying starlight, he pauses at length on a black street
to filter the lies of self-control, the chime of her despondent clogs
promise to drive hot or cold through an unsheltered trench
to satisfy the setting moons of summer shade, no shamrocks
no shark attacks no cool chivalry or symmetry
in powdered sugar wire mesh confection, they embrace
the sweet burden of orange