Let's stay in reality,
on the air,
split in two. 
Everywhere the plague, 
my dear Augustine,
and everywhere schnapps more expensive gold. 
Let's hang. 
between dactyl
and the upper sky pre-dinner.
As a pen and pterodactyls
and Cumulus 
geese-swans.

Or the forest, my heart, 
Where a log cabin with a roaring stove 
the age creaks without dying,
on chicken skinny stilts.
Black cat in the doorway.
Nail for guest, 
except the stove.
Behind the mica in the window frame
Palisades with skulls.
I remember my mother's story?
The night is dark.
Folklore not kind.

Disclaimer: I just found these in my library. I do not have the rights to them,
I just them and decided to share them with you.

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