I'm going to be reading Saturday, first reading in exactly four months. I would like you guys to help me pick what to read: send me your 3 favorite titles (a link or description if untitled). I will read the most poular, if not the two most popular (but not the one about my algebra class or dreams,  if you like a section of either  of those, send me the section number). And if you live close to Port Townsend, Washington and would like to hear me read, it's from 6-7 pm at Pippa's Real Tea, downtown Port Townsend. There are two other scheduled readers, both are pretty amazing, and then a half hour open mic.

(almost) 60:
So what?
It’s only  
a lonely
number,
A digit,  
A widget  
A speck

       At 60:
Some are happy
But some, alone  
Without a home  
Others widowed,
Divorced  
or forced  
into Invisibility.

We are who we are.
Some poor,
some rich,  
some think it’s a bitch.  
Black or white,
gay or straight  
love or hate.  
Life is what we make it

Growing older
has its perks.
There’s Social Security,  
more maturity,  
AARP.
Medicare,  
blue hair,  
Sr. Discount @ McDonald’s

Replace a hip.  
Botox a lip.  
The knee’s arthritic,  
the stomach acidic.  
Life is fragile,
And just like that!  
Snap!  
It could be gone!

Meandering down
the road of life.
Oblivious.  
Lascivious.  
  A relationship, or two.
Stopping for a beer,  
having a career,
driving with the top down.

Then… SLAM….
brick wall ahead….SIXTY!
Screech of brakes.  
For God’s sake.  
Sixty’s the new forty?
Bullshit.  
Deal with it.  
Get your head on straight.  

It was Pete Townsend
who penned,
“I hope I die before I am old.”  
Truth be told?  
Older makes wiser.  
Wiser makes sense.  
Truth to dispense,  
and still a lot to learn,

Growing old “gracefully"
is an art in itself.
From middle age  
to Sage,  
we step into our skin,
and rejoice  
our voice  
is heard  

I will be thankful!
I’ll thank the Lord each day!
For my three gorgeous girls,  
the best friends in the world,  
and a job that pays the bills.
Wealth,
My health
To love myself
At 60.

Sixty is Sexy

If I lived through the sixties, I can live through the 60’s.

(maybe a toke or two would help though)

Tip toeing through ruin,
careful not to wake the dead
scattered around him like spent matches in an ashtray.

A child woven of cloth searches
for a smoldering something.
A smoldering thought, feeling.

Flesh covered ghost- look closely, see the wisps
of my being seeping, slowly, through pores.
And do you see the salted earth?


Without flower or friend to call its own?

Now I'm stuck here. Bleeding
rose petals  on the dead leaves
of yesteryear.


Waiting for the Sun-
To cleanse my face in its rays.




©all rights reserved, 2012, Daniel R. Townsend*

The Ghost of my grandfather appeared beside me as I
watched the news today.

We sat for a while watching in dismay and wonder.
“Those smiling faces found in photographs of people being lynched, burned and hung from trees. Are still among us and even worse grandfather, they're still smiling.”

I said breaking the silence. He nodded in agreement and continued his journey
through the unknown.
That was my first time meeting my grandfather and it made all of the difference.



©all rights reserved, 2012, Daniel R. Townsend*

On a  daunting day;
I realized I am lost in the fingerprint of God.

And recognize it!
It is the same markings that  covered
the crime scene of my birth.

Where my wet, bloody, newborn
body was chilled by wind
for the first time.

My young spirit is
not fully developed.

Fragments, still wayfaring from
my beforelife.  

Soon to be dispensed into this life.

I swore revenge and signed the document
in my birth blood


As the doctor with two curved horns
spanked me and
shone stained light into my eyes.


©all rights reserved, 2012, Daniel R. Townsend*

my room smells like stale cigarettes
a bunch of wilted flowers on my bedside
and so i lay them over your grave
in the cemetery where my thoughts go to die
the lazy afternoon fucks with jim morrison
and pete townsend watching us from the walls
jars of vomit collecting in my closet because
im still throwing up the milk i sucked from you
when i was still a child and you were a man
when you took your coffee black
and mine was almost white in comparison