8063. CRUSADER

CRUSADER

Let the masked crusader through,

he is on his way to something; only

he will do. This permanent vacation

has turned to a permanent box, and

the headlines all screech of the ending.

-

Animal instincts sometimes seem the

best. I sense something about you  - 

 that sniped smell in the air  -   lustful 

and brooding, easy and fair. On the 

heights, the leafy trees are again 

ready for growing. I really ought

to live in a tent for the Summer.

-

Once I had proverbial dreams  -  they

came and they went like the blinding

blood of all those hot-wired days. I

would throw knives into those trees,

and those knife-blades would stick, 
clean, deep, into the bark in all
those deep ways.