Almost Human

 

Generations of repairs
mocked my desire
blocking
tongues & astral bodies,
nixing discernment
like Mango Sherbert lipstick.

Cruel punctuation,
& not a victimless crime.
Self-immolation
on the altar of fantasy–
or is that a tree house?
Orpheus can’t afford rent.

Cerberus guards the door.
The pampered beast snarls at love
whenever lyre takes leave.
She’s an old dog intent on her bone,
or bone memory.
Someone’s howling at a gibbous moon.

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Three Poems