life poetry

sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
let me be sad
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
with lips blood red and heart of stone
in may
if i should die, think only this of me
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
simplicity
night was black and drear
i go my way complacently
at midnight
when i was broke in london