Consecration
My friends are stars to me in the burning bright
way, not the remote and distant way
My adversaries are lords. Those bitches are
feudal
Some people are serfs but are ploughing in the
fields of love, which is more honorable than
being any lord
Lover, it is your shoulders that I stand on. It is
you that tried to teach me what not-fear was
Summer is the time that glimmers and we tell
limericks in the shade
When I walk alone the beloved is grandiosity
itself
Dry your soles on the mat and come to me. It’s
dumping so hard out there
What you don’t do you will never do
I’m comforting this dying dog in my lap. The
suburbs are a place to dream
Summer is the time to play games