Expect empathy
Not sympathy
For every single
Solitary woe
You may have
There’s a difference &
Money doesn’t change any of it
Not with your hands out
//unless you//
Start digging. . .
This is Earth
–LM
(Authors Note: I’ve seen so many solid relationships destroyed because of money)
The dove never told you
her wings were sharp enough
to cut you through
Why do you think like a siren
she calls you/closer, serenading
every single morning wishing
like a rose her thorns could taste
just a teardrop of blood in exchange
for a taste of you
–LM
Hark! Standing tall, a graceful woman
In a pearlescent white garb, clasping a mirror & a calm, temperate serpent
This lady is reminiscent
Of deeds judged through reticence
forlorn, aged and burning blue
throat singing torrents of war and sin
[Apocalyptic proportion]
She is but a pale shadow & symbol
In time lowering her snake in exchange
for a sword
She couldn’t accept anymore
Deciding then. . .
Justice would be swift and final
For all those beasts who run riot
And screamed out Justice is impartial!
& Forget the blindfold __ I carry the future/
–LM
I lounge in your brick house,
such stone couldn’t halt my endeavor
Now at my feet lies the corpse of a wolf
once desperate to find shelter (didn’t
know any better)
& it made a fine meal
could have suckled away its juices
for hours
Until you found me____
Were you a child, I could have revenge
but you were nervous, suspicious &
[Frankly]
ungrateful///
I did you a favor!
–LM
The dead encroach
in the small hours
where childrens’ toes hover
just-above-the-
hardwood
Only when the children slept undisturbed
There they may be glimpsed perturbed
professing woesome deeds
& If they woke and responded late
The ghost in question would kindly fade
Demurred by unimaginable pain
Unhealed by the illusion
Of resealable fortune & resealable fate
like the crow, a dark house shakes
off the ash of an urn, into the rain
—LM
(AUTHORS NOTE: I fear I am losing my touch)
There were two “You”s,
and one “eye” — cast under
the umbrage of your shape
I can do nothing more than hold
my breath knowing damn well
Your marvel takes place in my hell.
–LM
She’s got her finger up against her lips
but she’s not shushing me; she yearns
to liberate, not to be afraid of
every goddamn choice she was
ever going to make
She’s pale but her yellowed teeth
snicker nicotine, you could
probably smell it like sulfur
A mile out// but it’s not all bad
¬ at all like her, her scent is sweet
You start to fathom
There’s more to her misery than
______a deplorable mystery
She’s quiet now, tongue carved out
Can’t quite imagine the silence
That burning end and the arsonist
A panache wearing the narcissist
She wants to set everything ablaze
She just can’t swallow the flames
There’s a sword in her throat&
blood caked in her nose but
Her real diagnosis
is madness
A rogue captive escaped
–LM
I am eaten alive by inability
Though through objective eyes
I am fine
There’s a very good chance
If you’ve been listening, skylark
You would know the difference
But I regret that you’re not here
I mourn, strangely for
I have not lost anything in deference
To you
As fast as lightning flashes
& the hurricane supercedes
You are back
& I am tired of dredging
sloppily through the mud
Without a map. . .
So, so
So
Tired
Of that.
–LM
There’s a silvery whine to the breeze
a feathered watch in the trees
[no one seems to hear but me]
perhaps someone lies in wait
for a distraction as they grip a re-tract-able blade?
Tiny neon flashlights and piping children
Trick or treat was never a question
The candy is poisoned!
There was never another option
It was its own reply!
How grave of me//come to clarity//
Dark humor is a luxury, no?
I digress…
What has your soul done
& where has it gone
In all your unfaithful time
Guarding your life arbitrarily
Just waiting to cheat me
As if you could.
–LM
Adrift,
the sienna leaves
kissed briefly
by a full moon
the shade of a silk slip
Adrift,
to Fall winds but I think
I understand things now
& the way they have to be
I remember everything
then fight to forget
There will never be a unity
not classically, not in reality
Never between yin and yang
though
they’resodamnclose
& it goes both ways
My imperfections are what they are
but he does not see torn pieces
of fragility
He sees mahogany gloss,
steam on the breeze &
endless flames
–LM
The Lexicon 
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