Rebuking Christian

"Love is like oxygen,
Love is a many splendoured thing,
Love lifts us up where we belong,
all we need is Love."

In a perfect world, Christian

In a perfect world.

In Transit 4

I hear waves lap against the tires
I look through a
Water-beaded , occasionally streamed
Windshield
From my southwest
I feel the breeze spit towards
My hair and the back
Of my neck
I pass panic stricken masses
Huddled under slight eaves and thick trees
All this as I sit
In the front passenger seat
And eat
My oriental-flavored, salty
Nuts
And sing
"Jai guru deva om
Nothing's gonna change my world"

In Transit 3

I take in the marvelous
Cool late-night air
The aftermath of an earlier outpour
Of torrential rain.

Traveling, treveling
Through an unbecomingly undense city street
Past gas stations
And beer houses
In front of which scantily clad women
With their cheap parfums parade and
Spoil my marvelous late night air.

Two dogs (Male and Female?)
Seem in a hurry trying to find
That perfect spot
Where they could satisfy their urges.

Morning After

Blood shot eyes
Stare back
I stand before myself
Reflecting the near improbability
Of what I did
Last night