Spices of Mare Nostrum 

 Cinnamon will save my soul

all ground to powder in my distilled drink

take me back to the Milvian Bridge

I'd like a conversion

girls grabbing at my heart

and my attention 

you can't have it

four wheels moves the body, two wheels moves the

soul.

my prayers are all poems 

and my poems are a prayer

we don't need to go south of the Sahara

civilization stops here

rulers of the Mediterranean with

brown eyes and brown hair

temple columns are trite but soft hills and olive 

trees are a dream of your body

and my arms are Herculean and your

scent soft and sweet

cinnamon and religion 

cardamom and mystery

a breeze, a buttcheek and white silk upon thee