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Collected Poetry

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Passion Eddy  

Book two of impromptu trilogy.

  Larry:13


Nothing marred the thick lines of his black
leather jacket, yet when it ceased being ceremonial

was his hope to find love among the rural stations?
Smaller in scope the plaintive and the restless dream

the other is not quite revealed at the Orchid Bar. It is
as if the evidence of broken cigarettes could be translated

into a verse suggesting an original purpose—one that was
just not met. The restrooms are plainly unoccupied

and longing for a fresco of graffiti. Barring
the moot discovery that nothing has been obscured

by the evening's arpeggios, Larry quietly withdraws—
his Harley roar quickly receding into what is still
      the night.



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