Lypophrenia

Prologue

Poems fail
when loves fail
Don't listen to what they say:
a poem needs love's heat
to survive
cold time...

I’ve invented a place
to go when I am deeply sad,
sad to the unmelting ice inside me,
sad to the crystallized tears,
when the regrets start, small white panther cubs
that nip and their bites sting.
Lipiu is what I call the place I've invented
to go ...

«It was a fine day. In the west there was a massive stand of cumulus cloud so like a city seen from a distance—from the bow of an approaching ship—that it might have had a name. Lisbon. Hackensack. The sun was hot. Neddy Merrill sat by the green water, one hand in it, one around a glass of gin.»

«Then it occurred to him that by taking a ...