Jack of all weirdos
Keep your eyes off the prize
Set your sights on the crumbs
They’re your piece of the pies

Once King of the misfits
Twice a Joker to Queens
Better luck grasping straws
Than reaching brass rings

on the stoop, I glue my tuckus to a plank of mundane as the Chevys cruise in the turquoise Tannebaum
of Twilight, churning shadows into velvet. I surrender when the fog’s kiss, lifts the Veil and I ponder It.
I choose where my dyslexia is a coin and barter for less dementia. serving silent things in the tapestry
of untapped maladies, masquerading as polymer gods in a hedgerow of impossible odds.
I fumble for my keys like the rest of you darlings… but my hands are made of dented chrome and dendrites unmanned by sanity in favor of an alcove of dauntless Awe.
I’m barging into a rumination, as we speak.
taking the hill of a landscape as a Sharkfin-
gloating in Existential Soup.
My egga roll, something less discreet
than Yellow Journalism
in a Lava Lamp
as Lovers
do.

pollute your feathers at your peril.
for the sky between scars is every unchallenged door.
and you are the symbol of that fear made flesh.
Life is Shorthand for “ Deal With It”.
our clowns are clumsy when the spotlights conspire
to illuminate the Jest. but we take the Stage
like Pirates made of stars… and weightless coupons.

All the all gone, comes back like a vengeful orca.
bloated with disheveled moons and temporal rifts
in the fabric of a Shroud of Turin.
we bleed where we stand for Nothing.
Sleep where Our Dreams are fitful with Awakening.
fumbling at Martian waterfalls, as we trade
the humidor for the Desert. happy as clams
in a pit of merciless flumes.
boiling with all the Irony of a good day
patched over the Hole
of Every Day.

THROUGH intricate motions ran
Stream and gliding sun
And all my heart seemed gay:
Some stupid thing that I had done
Made my attention stray.
Repentance keeps my heart impure;
But what am I that dare
Fancy that I can
Better conduct myself or have more
Sense than a common man?
What motion of the sun or stream
Or eyelid shot the gleam
That pierced my body through?
What made me live like these that seem
Self-born, born anew?

The seraph sky on ebony night,
A white marble of placid light.
Casting to the living glass,
Haunting, the feeling's elapse.

A time of gardenia drapes,
Hanging the mourning wall.
Scent of ambrosia fogging,
The pavement covered in moss.

Portraits of Celts amidst,
Drifting upon moonlight mist.
Eyes delving, ears opt to hear,
Voices whisper of ancient fear.

An oracle muses the unguided,
As trees speaks the truth.
Humanity strives to be the art,
Yet only remembers by a few.

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend’s were.
Each man’s death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.