What sparks
Will often combust

What burns too fast
Never trust

The flames may dance
The heat may warm

But fast-moving blazes
Only aim to harm

Aliens from outer space,
Annoyingly hovering above,
Invade my trash most Sunday nights.

They're after the recyclables
--cans, paper, plastic,
Whatever they can get their
Spindly grubby hands on.

Whether they plan to use
The stuff to build a doomsday weapon,
Piece of nifty gym equipment,
Or some fancy headdress,
Who's to say?

I just wish
The little buggers would clean up their mess,
Instead of leaving it
For me on Monday morning.

There's an apology written in the snow
'I'm sorry about last night. Can I see you again?'
Her wordless exhalation causing the glass to fog
In nearly the same way as her thoughts
About last night

Second date
First ****

Siamese twins
Conjoining

Kissing cousins
Interlocking

Kindred souls
Connecting

You and I
Uniting

One flesh
Power of two

It's a bad dating sign
When even Alexa
Starts ghosting you

We need to measure the diametrics
Of your ****** and body structure
The radius of your smile
The appearance of your eyes
The height of your forehead
The size of your nose
The straightness of your shoulders
The firmness of each breast
The contours of your stomach
The circumference of your waist
The curvature of your ****
Your thigh gap
Hip width
Knee symmetry
Leg taper
Hair growth
Navel shape
****** color
***** length
...
So we can
Make you
"Perfect"

Don't live your life
Like a soccer match
Running endlessly
Back and forth
With little or no goals

The flowers you gave me turned to darts. So I took them in hand and proceeded to throw them at all your other lovers' hearts. Hit them I did, directly in the center. Steady bullseye. But they didn't die. Those wounded hearts turned to a pack of wolves and chased you into the nearest wood. It's there they devoured every last part of you -- your could, would, and should. Eaten up by your own pretty lies. A fitting way to say our final goodbyes. Fallacy was a refreshing pool you employed to hoodwink. And so we'll gladly spread your ashes over this drink.

He has a card up his sleeve
A chip on his shoulder
And a monkey on his back
Other than that
Life is a bed of roses

She sneezes like she pleases
Suddenly
Without warning
And all over the place

She's in parties,
He's in options,
Diluted ideologies unite,
Mood rings and **** carpeting,
Time to ride
The swing.

A bit of nerves,
Warm the hands with Jamaican ***,
All the wives then merrily lift
Their skirts in tandem,
Advertising disparate *******,
The color of come-on.

Spin the bottle,
Pass the blindfold,
****-a-hoop and tied-up,
Guess who's lips you kiss next (?)

They had a lovely evening
--Dinner
--Dancing
--And in someone else's pants.

The couple who plays together
Strays together.
Argue it out in the car
Or go home now.

Once the keys are mixed up,
You're game for the ne plus ultra
Of strange bedfellows,
And even stranger inclinations.

Duck duck goose
Hangman on a noose
What's your crime
Other than stealin' time?
Picked at random
You won't get sainthood
From martyrdom
There was no four-leaf
Clover, Chuck
Which in layman's terms
Means you just
Ran out of luck...

Encircle or recycle
the elastic of her *******,
for they're a bit worn and showing,
proving the theory of gravity.
But his hands still
lustfully reach for them.

The cinch of her waist,
no longer tailor made,
has inched itself out a little too far.
But he thinks it just right
in placing his arms around.

The sculpture of her ***
not quite cut from stone.
But he still daydreams about
how on fleek her cheeks.

The added width to her hips
the result of two full terms
and one premature.
But they do somehow
remarkably sway him.

Descending silver streams upon her belly,
those tributaries leading
to her Garden of Eden,
evidence of their past work
in the practice room.

Here she smiles,
blushes even at such retrospect.
He is so passionate about those lines
and the gifts they've brought.
Alas! He's more a madman
than ever for her fruit
and it's heady aroma.

Resistance is futile.
Acceptance is freedom.
She makes up her mind to be
comfortable in her own skin.

A woman's life
is a series of alterations,
some less prepared for
than others.
But there is little denying
her body is a temple
that continues to be worshipped.

Boy saves girl
Girl so grateful she spits
Boy draws girl
Girl humps boy silly
Boy calls girl stupid
Then becomes popsicle
Goodbye King of the world
Girl blows whistle
Steals necklace
Gives everyone the finger
But at least her
Heart will go on
Or some malarkey

Oh, yeah!
Somewhere in there
A boat sinks...

You are fashion
Mrs. Juniper
Some days a fitted skirt
Others, a skinny jeans ensemble
The summertime catcalls and whistles
Over the length of your legs
And a slinky polka dot bikini
You pay no mind to
If fact, you don't even blink
Even when they lick the glass
It's a job to you
Plain and simple
And no matter how stiff it becomes
You're always willing
To lend a helping hand

I'm cut
Not too deeply
Perhaps a flesh wound
One drop or two
And then all is well
Closing over
Let the healing begin
And I will think of it no more
Goodbye year of the knife
Hello restorative day

Standing at the launching
of rabid filibustering grenades,
soaring high,
bursting brilliant,
reeking havoc
--chaos like inner city canyons imploding
in on themselves;
--then again--
news breaks of blood
on a naked white girl, and
the memory of them fades...

A Byzantine world upside down
capsized

Survival
starts by praying for time

Then climbing over everyone
and everything

Going top to bottom, blow to blow
with a common fear:

Self-doubt

We struggle with life
as much as we struggle with death

Where will we be
when the water rises?

With heart in our hands
or with hands at our throat?

Hail the lifeboat, captain
one of us is about to break through the hull

Yesterday,
I caught death
going through my trash,
looking for cans.
I asked him
if there wasn't somewhere else
he needed to be.
He said he was
in between jobs at the moment,
and thought he'd do
a little recycling
in the meantime.
I told him to move on...

The ransom note came this morning
And you were listed twice
First as the abductee
Then as the abductor
I'm not even going to ask
How it was that you captured yourself
I just want to know
What's going to happen once
You have the money
Do you free or ****
The hostage?

Jack and Jill ran up a bill
To private school their daughter.
Jack fell into schemes and broke his dreams,
And Jill came crumbling after.

You had a gut feeling
right out of your catnap, didn’t you?
An SOS from a UFO?
Who had ever heard
of something so preposterous?

The Captain was a company man,
which is a nice way to say
'corporate puppet.'
His equally duped thrill-seeking buddy
got caught with egg on his face,
before giving birth to one ugly baby.

Did anyone help clean up
the petrified chick,
or post a stupid sign
on the Captain's forehead?
Levity was in short supply this far out,
apparently reason was too,
this explains how a game of hide and seek
morphed into ten little indians.

But surprise, surprise!
Science guy was a skin job.
How sad, how sad!
All your fellow employees
came to a sticky end.
Only your nine-lived four-legged
friend somehow held out.

Sandwiched neatly between
a rock and a hard place,
you revised the game plan,
‘twas time to punch your ticket
for the last wagon out of town
and strip down to your skivvies.
Hey, whatever floats your boat!

Only to your chagrin
you discovered a ****** in close quarters,
trying to hitch a nightmare of an Uber ride.
No damsel in distress here,
vexed over his ****** advances
you joined the #MeToo movement,
then ignited the overgrown termite
and made him eat your dust,
until a crushed soda can
on its way to the recycling center.
Not bad for a warrant officer!

Say it now
Before the verbal amputation
And issue of an apology for
Three little words
Expressed from the heart
Given freely
Never to take back

But a world around us
Scrutinizes our every move
Smacking on the hand
When we've done the unthinkable
And said something
Against their liking

Take it on the chin
Take it in the eye
They can't keep us
From how we truly feel

It's not about justice or the truth
but rather, how good the attorney

Feathers ruffled
Knives out
Glue me to the game console
Harebrained, yes
But devout

Mastermind
Before their time
Or so their bio's show
They paint like
Picasso for a day
By numbers the rest of the year
Billboards say "This way"
But the intellectual vibe
Is the yellow brick road
To never, neverland
They speak rousingly clear
Talk of big plans
But fail to execute on game day
They critique us
Repeatedly so, only
Because they wish they were us
Their belief in nothing
But themselves is undeniably
The fatal flaw

Dead cities
Living souls
Gates keep within
As much as without

Dad was a blowhole,
Mom, a plankton feeder
Who never neglected the pod.

The hunters would come
In their little asinine ships,
Looking to stick our
Good sense with sharp points,
Harpooning us into believing
We'd be better off dead and used for fuel.

But Mom would read to us
Stories from books about high water,
And tip those boats right over.

Nothing dared swim in our wake on such nights,
She was queen to the waves,
Who in bows and curtsies,
Became her subjects.

Little did we know this long, arduous journey
Was driven not by kingdom, but by extinction...

The length of a passing glance
a moment of complete chance
...from one breath
to the next

When fingers entwine
where planets align
...from one breath
to the next

In the measure of a kiss
at the core of coupled bliss
...from one breath
to the next

School teachers
deserve hazard pay

Our love was like a library
Everything inside us was used
And outdated
We were constantly shutting
Each other up
And when we finally did talk
We discovered ourselves
Long checked out

Help control the predator
population
by having your threat
spayed or neutered