The Dictator and the Dreamer

The dictator and the dreamer
cannot get along
For while she screams that rules were broken
he gently pens a song

When their sleeping patterns battle
lone eyelids jam the brakes
detergent tires of crimson
kiddies hide the sharpened stakes

He marvels at her power
or she envies for his muse
thesauruses go missing
His words imagine him a coup

Dictator fiddles with the taxes
Dreamer sups the chai of laze
the route back to equality
is solely for the brave

The poetry she plants him
is st*rred and ripe, concise
He has a private cave where
gay porn is what he writes

Stained sheeting is not silken
Jellyfish will hunt for legs
Coughs and yawns compile a language
Black hole of middle bed

he scrubs his heart on pages
she stores hers in the fridge
To comprehend one poem
she'd suffer all his fibs

The dictator and the dreamer
cannot get along
by June, he’d found her strung from
noose of lovers songs

Bjórr litr

I found a Viking in my beard
bright Norse irises, a spear
hair of Highland, age-old reindeer
sacrifice in peat with human tears
first farmers chance druidic sneers
peculiar tongues try licking ears
the channel splits thus freezing fear
some holy henge, a lunar year
such pantheist pale that paints me queer
Tan of beech and Albion beer