He snores and farts in sleep.
Unabashed as we kids creep
looking at Grandpa's books
borrowing them like crooks.
Salinger's Catcher in the Rye.
Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby.
Bronte's Wuthering Heights.
Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath.
Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar.
My 100 Night's in the Bar
tanned in neon's sunlight
stumble home in moonlight.

Tie me down use whips
endless cruelest licks.
Nail me on wood cross
Life or death dice toss.

Jesus Christ maybe
born in Catholic guilt
an original sin baby
wrap me in sin's quilt.

Numbers I adore
are God's own drunk
******* on the floor
old small and shrunk.

Words keep raining down
honest sweat tears and blood
caught in a riptide I'll drown
in tsunami anonymous flood.

1+1 = Love?
Marriage Dove
Wedding storm
Love never torn.