the minotaur oils / his mustache with a man skin / every morning

and he dons a suit made of / hair harvested from live cats

but who would want to / marry him with or without / his robust hygiene

only a dead lumberjacks / old boots and tobacco pipe

so he shivers in / his hard concrete home beneath / the metro station

and listens to the insects / that fall into the deep well

his hot clouds of breath / melt the neatly styled mustache / like beheaded fish

when will he have paid for his / one night of indiscretion

minotaurs live lives / of musty beer and black eyes / of primitive dreams

they stand in the blue water / and howl at winters moon face

but this minotaur / in the cat hair suit likes to / read philosophy

ideas can have the strength / of reality he says

in his head there is / a city by the sea with / a sidewalk cafe

and a lumberjack orders / iced black coffee and a roll

he has eyes green as / pine smoke and wears a pair of / vintage leather boots

the minotaur gives the man / the name owl eveningstar

this side of summer / is like thunder from a train / window owl offers

it climbs the glass and lays the / red hand of sleep on your ear

the minotaurs head / rests on owl and he breathes in / the smell of cut grass

birch bark - artisanal / paper - home made dog meat soup

the winding road of / this labyrinth is planted / amply with flowers

like urban wildfires they bloom / and light up the dome of night

it becomes quiet / as rust black snow journeys down / to the glassy shore

owl takes the minotaurs hand / and says this is your doing

you too my beast are / an idea inside your / very purple mouth

cry if you will but only / you will be able to hear

the moon falls hard on / the minotaur and dyes his / eyes bluer than ice

the oil on his mustache has / worked its way into his dreams

here at the station / a man in plaid stands reading / a book on plato

he would give his hand to see / a live minotaur someday