I found you in a potter’s field…
Sleeping softly in your fears.
Loquacious demons stole your dreams
And wasted treasured years.
I’m sorry that the rain won’t stop
Your moistened bed is caving in.
A chatoyant moon to watch over you,
Highlighting each one of your sins.
If I could close your eyes, I would.
I’d sing you back to sleep.
It only takes a minute
But you’re resting in there pretty deep.
Kicking at your wooden box,
Screaming out your prayers
It kills you when the thing you love,
Isn’t yours
Its theirs.

Mind if I play pretend?*

What if it was you and me
on a breezy hill

         overlooking nothing but grass

                                                       grass

grass waving to the wind
like waves that never crash

would you sit beside me
and stare at it
be silent
comfortable enough
in each others' thoughts?

I would watch you
from the corner of my eye
and you would be
smiling

(I always have you smiling in my mind)

your perfect bangs ruined
tousled
yet beautiful.

I'd watch your magic eyes
flashing
shining
bright.

boy with the old poet's soul.

looking at the same field
yet you'd see it better
than I

you will capture the parts that contain the unexplainable
and hold it
in your heavenly rucksack

while all I have are
eyes bending the light,
making sense of the colors.

your mouth will not open
you do not tell me what you see

but you free what you've trapped
in your poetry

and there do you give

you to me.

wounded badly by
the unconventional weapons
of trying times
love has retreated
from action
opening doors
for straight transactions:
see how
fecund
women
queue up
impatiently
in front of
the bachelor pad
of the free donor
of certified
high quality
*****.

***** up your ears,
you begin to hear
the future
crying out
aloud voicelessly
for the right
of the ******
to conceive.