How bright
my sun shines down
all day
Sustained and savage
with glee
of sun tomorrow
but when evening comes
The shadows grow horns
and the darkness gasps,
and haints
come in like
they own the place
Licking their chops
over my
sleeping head
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
It came as a shock
But not a surprise
That ugly news
And they weren't
even sure
It was accidental
I mean,
Our story had
Been writ
Submitted
And put on the shelf
A long time before
Vows to others,
That kind of thing
But it was
A good story
All the same
I’m glad we wrote it
But I wish
I could revise
The ending
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC
It’s no field of daisies
This walk up those stairs
Sad banners flapping
This garden of dreams
I can see those assembled
Exchange their quick glances
As the band dies down
And the snickers fade out
They all know what’s coming
They’ve gathered to see
A neck yanked at noon
And this time it’s me
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
Look in my window
That’s me in there
With my spine
curled again
over this page
I started a novel,
But ran out of breath
I beat it and cursed it
but finally admitted
I’m a sprinter
(if that)
not a marathon
runner.
So maybe
Just a verse
or two
Because better
a dash
for hearts
or souls
Than a mile
for a
plastic grail
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC
Sheep in the hallway
Coy in the sink
Couldn’t risk sleeping
Not even a wink
Guppies came
and guppies went
in bobbling bubbles
of discontent
This is the stuff
poetry is made of
When your poetic
*** falls off
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
I ruptured myself
like a schmuck
On a movie
Last night
A vapid,
schmaltzy flick
With dashing
Hugh Grant
And Emma Thompson,
Who was crying
From a kind of
Slept-in sadness
That I wanted
To rescue
her from
But I'm sure I
wouldn't get
The accent right
Besides,
the script was
already writ
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC
That certain look
in your eyes
was in my dream
last night
Pearls cascading down
in London
where of course
I’ve never been
Pearls before swine
women and children first
then the rest of it
But it doesn’t matter
does it?
Just a small dream,
if that
Dreams dried and brown
from the middle age sun
Funny how they go
Dreams, I mean
Not pearls
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 12:17 PM UTC
My trembling,
pimpled little
yawp
on its way over
the rooftops,
Was blown by a whim,
bounced off
a gable
and fell into
the backyard
of a preacher
It was spitted,
and brushed
and cooked to a turn
Then served up
with coleslaw
to a chortling
crowd of
the brethren
after a sermon,
of course,
and hymns
and grace
and a chorus
of heartfelt
amens
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
An empty pen
when a verse
comes to mind
is like
you’re heading to church
with a burdened soul
And your car
won’t
start
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
Don't try to tell me
Another joke
Nor drown me in
Your sorrow
This bar room
swimming
in neon smoke
And a cowboy
Singing truly
Of the kind
Of love
Only cowboys
Can lose
in the heart
Of the cold cold
city
I just came in
For a quick little beer
A few short
hours ago
But don't
**** me yet
Nor open that door
To the 4 o'clock
Blaze outside
Don't fret about me
I'm sure I'll be fine
Just a gray
stumble down
from the
glamour and glitz
and acclaim
of the
Great White Way
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC