Blues Sonnet

i like it     it becomes you
like sainthood     like a hangover

draped over your shoulder
over your eyebrows over your smile
a sense of inside your soul

the bus ride of theory
the laundry traveling to where you live
skeletons at the bar     playing dice at dusk

   so show me it doesn't have to be bleakness
   the wink of sainthood
   it becomes you
   like a silvered     shadow over your shadow
   like a drink of water
   like the glisten of wet teeth

from Purgatorial (2004)