Desire , on it’s way,/ with a deal,/ even after harsh words/Justice demands an answer/ not speaking of the Big Beat,/ or the absence of desire./Instead, the readiness of alcohol, //the smell of red meat./Over the years, we took our vows/formed pathways to the gutter/now stoop shouldered old men//splinters in their palms/eyes flow with tears. Working so hard to devise/ /their version of Golgotha. Descending through the ages,/armor immaculate, conjuring what cannot exist/ /fingers stained with tobacco. /The smoke’s on the bright side,misplaced in heaven/wisps of cellophane blue . Lately, I see time in boxes/as time is the world the world can see. /You have till Monday to trick me. /On Monday my sense of awe returns. //Then, I’ll dream of a thousand guests, busy like insects.