Every night as I lay in my bed
I am handcuffed and often lead
Into the halls of the prison of sleep
My mind confiscated by the dream police

Come to arrest me every night
Never do they read me my rights
Judge and jury all in one
Fast on the trigger of their dream gun

No chance at all for parole
When dreams are all that you know
Need a good lawyer defending me
When I am dealing with the dream police

As they are surrounding my mind
Pulling up in their black and whites
Peak out the window, all that I see
Flashing red lights of the dream police

Non, io non ti piaco.
Io ti amo con tutto il mio cuore.

Translation for those who do not know Italian.

No, no I do not like you.
I love you with all my heart.

One too many.
Maybe it was one too many.
At least that's what the unicorn said
but then again,
what does he know
of the hardships of life
and the means necessary to avoid them.
It is easy to preach when
your only worry in the world is being magical.

When I was a kid,
I wished to be one
and look how far I got;
I sometimes talk to one.
So it's not one too many.
Not now.
Now, it's one too little

Keeping secrets
You were always good at hiding things
Made me think twice about that wedding ring...
Turning away
Nervous laughter changing the topic
But your interest in my life was microscopic.
Honey how was your day?
Today
I saw you holding hands with someone that wasn't me.
Yes. I know you'd never betray
There is a good reason
and my heart defends this treason.
My eyes overruled in disbelief
as I watch you smirk in mischief.
I'm falling trap to your charms,
Overlooking flaws
and willing to risk that pain
Hoping my love will change
your ways.

(I watched you come back again.)

You asked a silly question to get my attention like you always do.
I fell for it even though I know what comes in the end.
You and I will argue.
I will be the one at fault.
You will tell me that you are leaving.
I will tell you to just go already.
You will laugh.
I will plead for you to stay away.
You will delete your account like you have done 7 times.
I will cry for you again because my tears never run dry.

(I will wait to see you leave.)

i don't know
it just creeps me out
when christians say
they're all brothers and sisters
what would elvis presley think of this?

Holy Crap,
They Sold My Name!

No big deal, your name, your email, bought n' sold daily,
Like a baseball card, your picture and vital stats are on the internet,
Your credit card in the fine print tells you they love you much,
But the data they collect, might get credited to such and such.

You're fair game if your sign up for anything.

Now I know I am getting on in years,
Tho spry rhymes with die, I flatly deny
Any notion that
My great beyond is just around the corner!

But Holy Crap,
They Sold My Name!

Got a color brochure
Suggesting that when my travels are over,
A nice place to rest my head might be
St. Michael's Cemetery.

St. Michael's Cemetery
7202 Astoria Blvd, East Elmhurst
(718) 278-3240
Friday hours 7:00 am–5:00 pm

In case you want to check it out too...

Tho I live not in the Borough of Queens County,
My zip code but a hop, skip and jump away,
The cemetery adjacent to the Grand Central Parkway
Which is actually quite thoughtful of
The mass marketer who dreamed up this scheme
(And got paid a plentiful amount of bounty!),
My kids could wave as they drive by,
On the way to LaGuardia or JFK airports
And say, guilt free, they visit me regularly!

Sadly, their plot foiled,
I will be buried in
New Jersey soil,
Near to my pop, who liked the
Wide open spaces of suburbia
And shopping on Route 4,
Where the selection is great
And there is no sales tax.

But Holy Crap,
They Sold My Name,
And I am now target marketed,
Niched, pretty soon the boys from AARP
Will come calling, reminding me of the gap
Tween Medicare and the poor house!

Ok ok,  grow up you say, tho your hair is full,
And not even a hint of baldness shines forth,
Nonetheless, its color is zebra striped gray,
And when someone says they got my back,
I think, please, please take it and keep it....

Oh yeah,
Dear St. Mikes
You might ask for some of your money back,
Cause this sily scribe is a member of the tribe,
Some call "those dirty (hint: it rhymes with mikes),
It starts with K and ends in yikes!

But thanks for thinking of me anyway.

For all I know,
the moment I first believed in love,
trapped in the sight of
the beaming hot eye of god,
hand raised, defenseless,
Breathing hot on my skin,
The sweet-perfumed voice,
Tender and shrill,  
words dancing from your lips:
laughing-mad and tender in my ears
eyes wet, wreathed in the gold
that powders the air .

For all I know,
That  was the moment,
Though love be blind,
I could see that your
heart beat
In time
with mine.

who killed himself
but nobody will tell me how,
and I'm too afraid to ask
because what if it wasn't an accident
and what if,
one day,
I know another boy.

I could've had a million likes
And American Apparel
And too many OMGs, and BTWs to count
More GORGs, PERFs than money can buy
And LMAOs, and STFUs that reach beyond infinity
And two katrillion followers
And "friends"
All of 'em,
Even the ones I don't know.

What do I have?
No American Apparel
2 "friends"
4 likes
And never any GORGs
And 34 followers
But I have more friends than you can count
And all of my OMG PERFs come from the heart
In other forms
Like you're so smart
You are beautiful
Wanna hang out
And smiles
Eyes that look like snakes
Yes, I have no ILYs or IMYs.
Instead, I have
I love yous
And
I miss yous.
And I am happy.
And that is what really matters.