Batman

Winged terror obscuring the moon
Comes flying from beyond
The dark

Telling traces or trails he leaves not
Never to be found or seen
Only imagined

Like shy scent of brine blood spilling
From a hole in the head filling
Your nose

Of murkling molasses, milding mushrooms
A trudging aftertaste of peril
Slow sweet

A grip of bat claw piercing bone so
Dense, descends gliding
The span

Of his wings, petrifying black hearts
That leap as quick as he scales
Mere walls

Muscle and bone in a cave of head
Still as sarcophagus
Batman stands

Points of Light

crushed
ccdim
pupils awash in cataract
blinking blindly
Points of Light
blurred by the window glass

Beckoning string of pearls
white now
ccThere yellow
phosphorescence of
a blue and green sea creature
ancient and wily
luring fresh meat to walk
tantalised towards it
mesmerise with its miasmic
interior of pitch tar
Pliant Penumbra
studded with glitter
like a starlet with potential
like the sky itself
lights
glow
low
ebb
by

Getting Ready

Slick wetting streams
Off the slope of my back
Steam sprouts and floats
Like elusive dreams
Through the gap above
Luminous white curtain

Undrape the towel
And smooth over
Little globules of penetrating
Moisturiser
Little blobs of sweet smelling defeat

Nourish and feed the need
To flatten spurts of thorny
Animal
Cultivate a culture
Of shiny baby necessities

Give me your look
Give me your love
Give me your need
So I can feel
Necessary

I pull over clothes
Over my supple new nakedness
Tempered, perfumed
Acceptable
In civil society

Preferring waxing to
Shelves of stubble
On display counters
Inured to Pain
But open to criticism
Getting ready
To exfoliate
extract and expunge