I love her enough to write her sonnets;
to use an unfamiliar form to woo her.
Rhyme schemes are like a bee in my bonnet.
If she were cold, I'd be a coat of fur,
wrapping her body in love and heat.
Warming her soul in fuzzy animal bliss.
I long to rub her gorgeous shy feet,
and taste her inner thighs with a soft kiss.
When she's away, I can hear my heart break.
I can taste her salty tears in the wind.
I'm a vampire, this distance is my stake.
Taking her for granted was my deadly sin.
The first tender blossoms ache into bloom;
and I will feed her hungry orchid soon.

Your ashes don't speak to me Dad;
they float silent in the ocean.
I need you.
I have questions about
Don Quixote and Steinbeck.
You implanted in me a
love for literature,
and then left me before
the story was supposed to end.

What is the theme?
This plot *****!
I inherited your anger.
I think of you when
I punch the wall and
scream at my wife-
spider web windshields.

I cry through Man of La Mancha,
and laugh at the memory of the
stage you built us in the basement.
Who does that?
Props and scripts were our toys.
I acted and lied my way through my
first two marriages- always on.

You were the great director;
all your trophies are on the mantle.
You thought the pizza place turned
the volume down on the T.V when
your speaking parts came on.

I think you passed me your insanity.
I've been to the nuthouse many times.
I'm a poet Dad, two books published.
I still remember you reading
Kipling and Cummings to me.

In third grade, I read from
Of Mice and Men to my class.
The teacher scolded me for
saying, "Jesus Christ' and "*******."
What a peasant!
She missed the bigger picture;
life doesn't go as planned.

Her name was
Amy, she was
18 and I was 21.
We met the
summer after my
Mom died.
She had a scholarship
to Iowa State for
swimming.
We didn't have
air conditioning, and it was
a brutally hot summer.
I got sick, and couldn't
work; pretty soon
I couldn't get
off the couch.
I had my brother run
to the corner and
use the payphone to call
the ambulance.
It turned out I had
double pneumonia.
They also realized I was
drinking a lot and would
need help medically to
d-tox.

Amy visited me in
the hospital.
She snuck my kitten in.
We made out in my bed.
She was beautiful.
I felt so alive when
I was with her.
The kitten got loose and
ran down the hall.
The nurses laughed.

I got out of the
hospital and began
drinking again immediately.
Amy broke up with me.
She said, "I can't be with
an alcoholic."
I was sad, but I still had
the kitten, until it
got smashed by
a car one sweltering
July night.
Mom
Amy
the kitten--all gone.
Then, I really started
drinking.

She used to clean my ears with hydrogen peroxide.
She cut and cleaned my toenails and fingernails.
She shaved my neck and back.
She even popped my zits. When I first went to
her apartment, she had me strip down in the hall,
so that she could wash the clothes I was wearing.
This all made me a bit uncomfortable.
I was sleeping on her couch one night. She came out of her room, wrapped in a blanket, and asked if I would lie down with her.
I did.
We were both naked, and I went to work on her.
She later cried and said,
"I wish I could take your pain away."
At the moment,
I didn't have any.
The next day, after I bought her over a
hundred bucks worth of groceries, she kicked me out.
Her last words were,
"You just want somebody to take care of you."

Tired and twisted
broken and listless
another day in prison ****** me off.
Last night was Christmas, and I
miss my kids so much,
it feels like I've been shanked.
I sell my desserts for coffee;
my one luxury in the joint.
The complexion of my day is
gray, and lonely as a
tea bag in the ocean.
Everything is gray:
The sky
the weights
the walls
the blood
the food
the fence
The mood, the soul, the yard, the heart
and the beat of the false dawn.
It's all tombstone gray.
Hate thickens the air.
And the light on the
horizon is a lie--razor wire sharp.