A block from the office
the city is tearing down an overpass.
Today they're beating the **** out of it
with a pneumatic hammer
the size of a freight train.
Its pounding
in time with my heartbeat
like the worlds largest metronome
suspended from the end of a crane.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang

I keep wondering
what’s going to happen
to all those buskers and hookers
who peddle their wares under that bridge.
I'm not seeing it though and
no observation means no poetry.
No poetry means no catharsis, and
my guts are full of hornets.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang

It’s the great whisky **** of the spirit,
the all-encompassing lack of passion;
the longing for old friends;
the desire to lean on old habits
the chinks in something resembling old armor.
the crease, the seam, the fold.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang

Misfire on eight.
Misfire on eight.
Misfire on eight.
There’s this pain in my head;
behind the left eye
where the secrets live.
driving and grief stricken.
(misfire on eight.)
The headache has no name, but
it sings a song.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang

The ghosts of old raindrops
mock and scold.
Their scorn writ large
on these dusty roads and in these dusty throats.
To tote the barge but not lift the bail
ain't no kind of protest.
Spit in the well and
hope the master draws up that bucket-full.
Wishes.
Still, the giver of life
serpentines through this valley
like the Euphrates did
in that one book, but
it does not matter
since the scythe swings
in such wide circles
this time of year.
We can bring in sheaves until dusk
then fish for men in the morning but
our souls are still corrupted.
Our hearts are rotten like old pears.
I'm so thirsty.

I was making dinner
Just the other night
My little girl, my all
My WORLD
Asked me,"Momma, am I ugly?"
I stopped,
Dead in my tracks
****, grilled onions and peppers
To hell with fried okra
Let them burn in butter
I say,"What on earth, would make you think such a thing?"
She,
My Stella, my all,
Replies," My friend, said I am ugly.
She said my scars are funny."
My heart, STOPPED
What does a mother say?
I was at a loss,
My face, drained of blood
Ugly?
My Stella?
She was sick,
At birth
Yes, she has her scars,
Yes, she's abnormally small
But I think,
She's the most beautiful
Of ALL,
I knelt,
Got on my knees
I looked in her beautiful,
Sky coloured eyes
And I said,
"Stella, you, are beautiful.
In all my life, never, have I seen a more beautiful little girl. Your scars, well, those are Gods love marks. Like lipstick kisses. And they make you special."

You were always online but never on line in all ways.
For days on end, my calls and messages would go ignored and unanswered.
I left my heart far away from the margin on a page that was carelessly ripped out from my book of thoughts.
Forever is a myth and the future is uncertain; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.
At around 2 a.m. in the morning I am usually up thinking about you with no hope of finding sleep.
I am usually up listening to a wide variety of songs that exceptionally complement my melancholic mood.
It’s hard walking away from a girl whose arms I’ve always wanted to run into.
What should I do now with the love that I’ve always wanted to give to you?
As I toss and turn, my earphones inevitably become as tangled up as the words I’ve tried to say to you.
The words that I have tried to say to you are now slowly suffocating me.
These words keep depriving me of the air that I need to breathe when I think about the greatness that we both could be.
Forever is a myth and the future is uncertain; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.

And eventually, you will meet someone,
out of the hundreds of people you’ve met in your life.
She’s ordinary and does the same things like everyone.
She wakes up in the morning, fix herself a cup of coffee,
does household chores, work her way out through the day,
drinks wine, read thick novels, and sleeps soundly at night.
But she will turn your world upside down.

This seemingly ordinary human being who is like
any other human being suddenly starts to become
the only human being in your life.
And you start to ask questions.

Like, why her? Why now?
Why does your heart beats faster when
she’s around and slows down when she’s not?
Why do you dream of her? Why do you see a future with her?
Why is your mind filled with the image of her face,
her warm smile, the curves of her body,
the roundness of her *******, the thickness of her thighs?

Why is her laugh the most beautiful music you’ve ever heard?
Why do you feel wonderful and glad when she says your name?

Suddenly, everything just seems to lighten up.
You are entering uncharted territories and
it feels so good to get lost in some place
that isn’t just built for sleeping and dreaming,
isn’t just four-walled and filled with furniture.

Home, more than buildings, houses,
and four-walled rooms, can be a pair of arms
around your body, like a second skin on you,
a birthmark you can never get rid of,
a memory you will never forget.

"The day after the storm i went for
a ride.
What i was about to find stole my heart.
Eight inches of snow didn't stop this
little man.
Walking step by step with a little American
Flag in his tiny hand.
I pulled over on the side of the road
about fifty feet from another.
His mother allowed him to go alone paying
his respects to a soldier.
It was his Father who laid in the cold grave
that gray sky winter morning.
His tiny "Footsteps In The Snow" where made
behind him, and his destination were just
a few feet before him."

when in the world’s leading democracy
a new president starts his office with

     making life more expensive for average home owners
     signing orders threatening the health of millions
     restricting the publications of researchers
     denying global warming
     encouraging coal and oil companies
     forbidding federal employees to talk to the media
     going on fantasy trips about “alternative facts
          to justify his ridiculous lies
     ordering to build walls to keep out all those aliens,
          like the old Chinese did, to little avail
     issueing poorly formulated presidential orders
          causing confusion and harm and even deaths
     banning even green card holders from entering the country
     filling his cabinet with all the alligators from the swamps
          he promised to clean during his campaign
          people who know how to avoid paying taxes and beating the system
          but have no clue how to govern now that they ARE the system
          and think they can run the govnerment of the USA
          with its 350 million citizens
          as Trump&Cronies; USA, Inc.,
          like their private family husiness for profit

it is high time to seriously ask
what concept
    if any
of democracy he has in mind