For Topher
Split limbs emanate from rhythms over rhythms,
Waves under currents catching
Lyricism through melody melding into liquid air,
Hanging like a break about the joints,
Albatross around a sinuous neck, snap and
flung partnered like a limping bird spasmodic
in grace.

Hook at Eton
What drove him from the schoolyard to the mast?
Did he dream as all boys, of irrepressible instinct,
Wild & bloody cut-loose on the lawless sea?
Was he a Huck adrift,
evading the adult world he came to embody?

Had once his feet been fleet & light
of spirit, laughter in song?
His voice channels a child echoing rote;
In reproachful tones he chastises form,
The somber bass having outgrown his words.

creation
inspirated shades of sentiment rising humourous
through the body at the beckoning of blood
the muse throws meat to a captive heart
shall it be found shallow, waning in vigour
waxing viscous moon-eyed & blind as death