Sunday, August 08, 2004

My Romance

because they are less angry and more brutal

by night Gustaf ate things that cried softly before dying

he frightened couples by snuffling
at the pink shine of their bedroom windows

not once upon a time but yesterday

in all that time no man
ventured near the angel’s mound

a huge broken shadow spooking cows
for 300 years Gustaf guarded the treasure in the hole

one called Gustaf flew out of the whitened north

the precious metals jewels and opiates

moth-like he liked to creep into our village

of coin on the floor and his red eyes sparked
angels live longer than us hundreds of years

in daylight the angel circled our forest

pile of treasure

at last his long nose scented a furred hole
on a hilltop
rubies and precious things

Gustaf spiraled to the entrance

Gustaf shat all over the cave
and made it his own

the angel’s chicken feet felt the unyielding golden stacks

and a linguist…

angels more so than men love gold

of the hole and swept inside
the angel slumbered on the gleaming
and glittering

he woke to lick and sniff lovingly

then one night a man did come he was
a criminal

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