I feel there's two minds
That reside in my head
One on the right
One on the left

What I desperately need
Both minds to do
Is focus on knowledge
Center on truth

These two separate minds
That mull in my head
One reasons slow
The other thinks fast

What I'm hoping to find
With this state of mind
That they'll both work together
In double time

Pulling as one
Easily done
Hugging it out
In my cranium

If they only would
Bend to my will
Until that day
They lay perfectly still

I should like to tie you up
    So you have only one choice
That choice is trusting me
Giving me control
    Over your pleasure and passion
That would be my pleasure
In that
I do not feel that I have a choice
It is my responsibility
To make you mine
To want your all
To feel your all
To take care of you
To protect you

You will let me
Show my strength
My power
My dominance

My love

Without you
I have nothing

I may ask of you
To give control to me
But your hands are upon my heart
And that is where true control lies

I am your man

I feel them staring, glaring --
I'm never sure.
My mind rewinds
to a different shore,
where fish have armored skin
that protects them from
pressures of Earthen spin.

They have legs like fingers,
the fish, the people,
that tramples me, samples me
until I'm withered, feeble.

The stares are like bugs,
striding across with curious rage.
Biting, learning, living
in the hollow of my rib cage.

READY FOR HER CLOSE UP

She spoke as if
she were speaking

...in NEON*

as if her words
were Broadway plays

proclaiming themselves
on first nights.

She looked upon one
as if one were

a to be or...not to be.

Her laughter was pure
theatre

she would "Ah dahling!"
you to death!

I always felt
like an audience

in the cheap seats.

She always "just was"
as if one were lucky to be

here where she

acted her self

out.

you taught me that books and pizzas would go together.
Like the Italian-kind-of cupcake that I ate; chocolate cupcake stuffed with sour cream. Like *** and TV shows—fries and ice creams.

You made me feel what it is to be human again because I think I was;
You let me read words, stories, and poems that made me feel.
You have made me chuckle with your jokes.
You have made me a poet of your soul.
You have made me—
Today, you have.

he was a simple man
a saint,
he dragged his metal ice chest with him for many years
wherever life lead him
ball and chain,
birthdays
weddings
reunions
garage sales
the theaters
graduations
work
funerals
the bars
even church,
he brought beer
to drink
to share
to spill,
a simple man
the little blue man
he was a saint
who tried not to feel. -Shane Book