As A Novelist

As A Novelist

I control words coerced into being
more than myself. A concatenation
of pages, books, brains: manipulation
is my expertise. I shape your seeing.

I appease inspiration with my clutch;
whether tomes, music, lives—I have a touch
of kleptomania. Reined in my fist:
the fluidity of a pugilist

Dancing in a pen. Personality
disorders, so my borderlines are kept
writing, as I create reality

Conforming to my vision: great. Except—
buried in my lather of character
is a girl, and I cannot extract her.

Copyright © by Kevan Copeland

Dissolving All Distance In A Single Sonnet

citylights2

Dissolving All Distance In A Single Sonnet

From inside, I view, from behind, your body

On the balcony, your look enwrapped by city-span,
the rising CN Tower lights coveted by Brooklyn eyes.
We understand; my room and I invite you in:

I twist myself to tilt your sight, and spill my head across the ledge
and onto sky; then begins the body press, the lips to neck. Citizens within
our borders wish to mix; immigration laws do not exist

Between our kiss, or in my bed. Among the threading
in my sheets, the strands you leave are all I count. They recount
my fingers weaving to your head, and how I watched it facing

Out, in poignant glance. That locus, under microscope, could explode
to where, with such device, you search for me
upon the slide, scrutinize, then conclude: both man and place reciprocate.

Toronto wants you. So do I.

Copyright © by Kevan Copeland