I visited my home for a few days
smelled the ocean as I thought of the time
we decided to drive to the beach and lay there
in each other's company for a few hours
I got wind burn and we drove back in a storm
leaning forward, my back on fire
we laughed because we were happy
to be with each other
I loved You
you know
as crazy as it was
I didn't know where we stood
we didn't talk about the possibilities
of you and I beyond this day
you were spoken for
this I knew from the start
and I waited for you to tell me different
but it never came
even though I saw the burn
in your eyes
we would get high together
and sing as we sat around the candles
on your living room floor
though we kissed like vampires after blood
and held each other until the Sun arose
we never made love
perhaps we both knew that
we could never turn back if we did
this was what I wished for

I am back to the place where I live
and must return to my life such as it is
put the memories of you away
until I am home again
I loved You
you know

I want to be friends with Glenn Danzig.
We can conjure up some evil.
No lesser imps
or minor demons though.
Only a meeting with
the capital “D” Devil
because Glenn and I would command such an audience.

I want to be friends with Glenn Danzig.
We can giggle like schoolgirls
when Chuck Biscuits sits on that whoopie cushion we left out for him or
finds a fake, plastic eyeball floating in his coffee mug.

I want to be friends with Glenn Danzig.
We can go on the “Punch America’s Face Again” tour.
We wouldn't be singing in our slimy baritones on this road trip.
Just passing out black eyes
like Halloween candy.
Leaving a trail of busted noses and
broken hearts
in our wake.

There would be sleepovers.
Glenn and me
with Iggy Pop, Johnny Rotten and
the ghost of Peter Steele in attendance.
Ouija Boards and light-as-a-feather.
Peter Steele would always win.
He is a ******* ghost after all.

We could give each other nicknames:
Goodboy Glenn and The Big Dill.
maybe a secret handshake…
Nothing too elaborate.
Just cool, y’know?

We would text one another
after the season finale of The Walking Dead:

Darryl needs to die he’s not even in the comic but it’ll probably be Michonne there’s no justice on T.V. for cool black girls this show has just been a study in emotionally manipulating its audience since the beginning anyway why are we the only ones who see that

Why are we the only ones who see that?

Are you listening Glenn?

A hand light as air
was placed
upon my shoulder
not weighed down
with feeling
simply coerced by tradition
that hand did not
belong to an actor.

had my soul taken shuttered
into selfconsciousness
by a photographer dad
the lens pointed at me
through my puberty
I wonder if some civilizations
or cultures are correct
that you can capture one's soul
contain and display it
too much
now
in this time
a selfie
is extremely disturbing to me
so I search Google
Images for who I want to
be

I've never read The Torah, but
I'm reasonably sure
it is a travel guide
for a desert getaway.

I've never dreamed of
red headed priestesses
who can move their hips
like cement mixers.
They probably have sharp teeth and
slender fingers.

I always thought that
the cosmos would bend down
to give me a dap.
It still may.

I'm full of dark and weird judgement.
All for you.
Sometimes the darkness wanes
while the weirdness lingers.

in passing of time,
as we grow old,
as i learned the wisdom
of the good and bad
in the rhythm of life
i stood still -
  in pause,
       waiting
              in silence.
at a passing thought
you'll never know
what's out there -
uncertain in most
                      cases.
in beating the odds
a step yet to have taken
    i only took a detour
for a time, just for a short while
yet I wouldn't have imagine
years has passed never did
i take a step...

My problem
isn't with the philo-
sophical side,
but lies more 
in the how
and the when and
the courage
required.

I held his hand firmly on the fairground.

There were ferris wheel and rocking boat
even a flying saucer
of rides worth a few pennies

but the boy embracing that unlucky age
had his eyes stuck on the shining silver blue
beaming behind the sparking glass
full with rotor blades ready to take off
dreaming a ride to the sky
past the high tent of the circus
over the tallest coconut tree
into the haze of stars
where to only lonely pilots could fly
for being loved and understood
and not questioned for the cracked voice
for the thin hairlines on upper lip
for glancing at the girls
but inducted into the team of thirteen
for perpetually traversing between stars
on free rides into freedom
worth a lifetime.