Inside our caverns
Invincible soul head hung
Shuffling from the light
Foaming at the mouth
Rabies’ frothy latte foam
Bile so blue it bends
The naked contempt
For our own stupidity
Fogs this clueless life
Category Archives: Poetry
Which way do I go?
It would be so easy for me to evolve into a jolly old elf, laughing heartily, bringing cheer and mirth to the humdrum day
It’s as if it were in my DNA or etched in some god’s tablets, decreed by the founding fathers
And Obama
But I don’t want to be fat
You hear me, ye spinsters of fate
I don’t want to be fat
I want tone and the envy of my peers just as badly as I crave the classic sundae before me
Dreams dilemmas and delusions
The working title of my autobiography
That’s enough
I know too much now
Missives every moment you summer on the shores of oblivion
The onslaught providing comfort
Hollow reminders of the bedrock of this moment, but this moment alone
Perhaps that’s why you feel the urge to over-share
Perhaps to save your sponsored soul
A bulwark against the others’ stream
The breaking reports of a life you should have lived passing you by
A swollen swift-flow:
I am so much better than you
How do you and I find our way back
Speak, touch uncertain
But speak and touch once again
The obstacles are many and true
Progress does not wait for you
Our interloper loves to march, the cardio sublime
Too pleased, too eager
Zealous seductions of soft limitless cool mud while the planet burns
Sticky tar
Don’t look here, no not here
The answer is poking you elsewhere
Perhaps
Unplug
Inside
Unwind
You
Undo
This Marriage Is Good For Me
There’s something to smoothing the edges out
To ceasing unnecessary concerns
It feels good to have lived these many lifetimes in this short lifetime
And remain alive
It feels good to hold you knowing you’ve lived lifetimes too
And still chose me and continue to choose
I may count my blessings but I don’t always keep track of the balance
And there is something to that endeavour we call record keeping
That balances things (and not just check books!)
The effort keeps the going smooth despite all the noise thrown our way
Helps us find a silence in this embrace
This journey together
Love after the whistle has blown
The factory of your mind is closing
The light fading
Like the dying arc of an ancient sun in another universe we’ve yet to find
Take me there with you
So that I may shout my echoes among the damp white walls and abandoned work stations
So that I may suffer the reverberations in my chalky bones and decay
With you
As we promised
Forever ago
In that universe we’ve yet to find
An epiphany, common and plain
You tell me a blast of light bathed you
And you were saved.
Salvation, baby, salvation.
Salvation.
You salivate as if you’re bathing me in something novel and unique.
Alas.
All light blasts.
From your bathroom bulbs to your annoying book light shifting every time you turn the page or adjust your weight to find the cool spot in our unmarried king-sized bed, ah, just imagine the sin.
Blasting faster than your dreams conceive in their darkest of deep dark dreams.
Bathing all of us baby.
Baby.
So next time try to tone down your enlightened enthusiasm and bring me something I can use, man.
Man.
Flower Power
Appear, wildflower
Singe the empty space you occupy
Sing a vibration or two
Ruin some bee’s day
Rue the rain you never see
And wilt home to dust for your encore you silly infinite thing
Smoke Signal To An Old Colleague
The last time I saw you, you were sitting Indian style on the thin corporate carpet of a faraway conference room
Whining
Why won’t anyone assign me my goddamn spirit animal? Goddamnit!
Your overdone face melting into deep sudden awareness of your own irrelevance
Your peevishness
Known to all but you
Till then
I couldn’t find you on Facebook yesterday and now I wonder how you are
I’d like to tell you that you were a good secretary and that I only wished the best for you
Despite everything you probably think of me
I want to tell you that I always saw you as a lamb in wolf’s clothing and I’m hoping you’ve found that spirit guide
found your way
found better makeup
And are free
Tomorrow versus The Status Quo
I broke the rules like your nose, punchy
They were in my way like you stole my girl
They were conceived against me like that turd and your mother
Meant to help the well-off only like your country club Christmases
But they trapped me like your pussy jiujitsu
So here I am in jail like all your broken dreams
And I dream of freedom like your daily bike ride to the beach and job
You lose like I win
Just deserts, punchy
Just deserts
The Show Off
She clapped her hand to her heart
She sighed not inaudibly and closed her eyes to fight the imagined tears
Mouth closed, back arched, breasts out.
This is rare behavior for her, thank god
Emerging exclusively at poetry readings
When she wants the poet to know how much her pampered heart has broken
Oh, this means so much, this means so
So much to me.
Her aggressively passive response trumping the toil the pauper endured
Capping the night
Usurping it
Without ever purchasing his book.
She’s my wife
She’s the reason I’m a banker
And not a poet