Wager

Lights from the root of May
had been with the softest rain and
flowers soaked.  Its ectasy a
coupling of vacancy and infinity
warring in my nebula of mind.
Both a meeting and departure
from Pascals wager, whom do
I take for a walk? Both in hands
the sin of gambling and that
epic cogency of infiinite Odyssey.
My Penolope is at home, whence
I wrote in rot and disease, an after-
life of before ordinance.  Chaos,
my love, I seek my mind to bend
to you, old truth, forgotten realms,
wed me with Dickenson’s party,
allow me to wither and wander,
home find, and marriage decree.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s