My green fingered great uncle Maurice
ran away with a stripper called Doris
she takes off her clothes
wherever she goes
and she's got ***** hair like a forest.

I am my cats pet
I am trained to be the best
fish chef...
I can toss fresh salmon in the air
with a single flip without a care
with one hand in downward dog
in a headstand while on a log
I can entertain as I coo her name
acting goofy with no shame
while her green eyes say, "You're so lame."
The bubble message just above her head?
 Oh, Hell- No! Not this again!
I really need something new to read. The books you own
aren't up to speed.
Btw, I've read every issue of Film News
Seriously. If I could sing right now?
"I'd sing the blues!
Okay. Okay. I get it now. You're a vegetarian
you don't eat fish, and you don't eat cow.
Check the labels. Check them twice.
You don't eat face.
You don't eat mice.
I'm so happy to be your pet.
Look how pretty your table's set!

It was a lonely kind of smile

that painted my face

the moment you smiled at me

I hid my melancholy

—-

It was a lonely kind of smile

one without a trace

of any kind of glee

as you gaze at me

—-

It was a lonely kind of smile

before I looked away

Not minding your looks

So again I won’t be fooled

—-

It was a lonely kind of smile

and I start to think

Though I’ll never resist you

I’ll try my best to……

Flummoxed,
In labyrinths of
Baleful forests with
eyes of gibbet makers
and buried undertakers
through gloaming sights,
hobbling towards the light.
The silver teeth of
obeisance sundering will,
plundering peace,
blazoning smiles of
malicious beings.

~

Standing before the microphone
Blank faces stare from cushioned chairs
Jewels sparkle, acting like they’re real
While bow ties just seem sad…it happens

Marching to the beat of clicking heels
Unbuttoned vests as strange eclipsed spotlights
Illumine smoke swirls in overhead rafters
Flowing from my ember’d fingertips

And my hair is a mess…but it always is
And I don’t care…do you?
I’d clear my throat but that does no good
Gravel has taken up residence…it pays the rent

The room goes dim, the audience worries
Glares spark like steel on asphalt
I can see them clear, slowly fading in anxious doubt
Scratching on some ink pad and dusty sheets…ideas

Yet I love you, I love everything that is you
Need surpasses desire, and I need
My arms long to cling you, crushed against me
Breathing as one, harmonious breath…thoughts…they come

The bass player plucks and that is my cue
Flicking my ashes I begin to read…poetry
And the audience smiles…I am a poet and poetry is cool
Leonard Cohen was right

She's so happy with the teeth dear
Now they're perfect,  pearly white
And she's looking at the rest dear
'Cos she's heard of Mack the Knife

It's those crows feet round the eyes oh
Keep those ******* way out of sight
And those wondrous thunder thighs oh
They're going under Mackey's knife

She's been thinking of her friends babe
Dearest Lotte and sweet Lucy Brown
Oh how jealous they will be babe
Once old Mackey's gone to town

She's withdrawing all her cash now
She'll be poor but look so right
Someone's taking all her stash now
And that someone's Mack the Knife