"Manifestation" and "When perfect delinquents"

Manifestation

Hours plough dreams
announced from
 
used leaves broken in their
simple colors.
 
They mouth product,
that sombre cliché
 
narrowly endeavoured
to roam streets
 
we share with
those occupied them—
 
victims sad chance
grew rich on
 
when spent boredoms
distended
 
a world theirs
through others’ ideals
 
for changing.
Now the trees that line
 
this Autumn night
recount them dead and
 
gone in a square
browns and greys
 
shot-out from.
Marx would have had
 
his field day if it were
of this he’d written.

When perfect delinquents

Thrill shapes to ravish.
It bills unheard of
 
in kindness exhibited
between
 
preceptors of sheltered cause
and promised libations
 
plexities aroused
of a yearning to bother.
 
The day after pleads our case
and feels for a clause
 
they would dismiss us
our seven notes appending.
 
But prohibitions against
signal them outlasted
 
the enforcement far gone
 
as morality assures
of debauchery undone
 
in jostled truths
long held
 
and climbed down from
these pikes impaling.
 
Now they stoke as heaven insures
a victory or death
 
the loss pertaining
if pitched grief and broke will
 
unevened hearts remand in.