I am the original renegade,
was crazy before I was born.
I never play the status quo game,
it was I who invented
the tune of a different drummer,
even the Marlboro Man
took cues from me.

There's no reason for me
to write with any encryption,
'cause I have no superstitions,
I just wanna tell it,
give to you straight,
harden your resolve.

Some might call that ego,
but whenever I've fallen,
I've gotten back up.
Once I ran with the bulls
& they have bigger ***** than me,
I won the race.

Like you 'lil darling,
I'm the dangerous type,
you can ask Cleo,
she sings the words.

With mighty branches
reaching into the stars
& roots stretching
deep into the earth,
they stand tall,
these ancient sentinels
are indeed,
the center of the universe.

Constantly hot
Like a cigarette
Always lit

Burning up
Like the sun
Trying to stay cool
Like the midnight moon

Fierce and feisty
Sweet yet spicy
A little sarcastic
A little electric

When you touch
When you kiss
It's like magic

Like a hummingbird
Heartbeat races at the thought
of nectar kisses

Yellow bricks breaking my back
I can't walk my way to the golden gate
Tic tac toe in the way of the consciousness I hold
Got to find a way around all of this unholy mess
Wander out past a camp site or two
Hearing some giggles these tents are full of scary clowns
Hacksaws for teeth and arms made of aluminum
Sneak to a forest filled with mixed messages to make neck hairs stand on end
There lies two paths
An emerald green like the eyes of a golden serpent
A red that blazes a fire by which the depths of hell have painted
They lead to two serenities
By the flip of a coin you may decide
Or return to the broken back by which a yellow brick has delivered you

Falling in love for the first time is less like falling and more like drowning.
It’s knowing how to swim but being so startled that for a split second your brain forgets to relay the message
It’s knowing that you should come up for air but preferring the weightlessness of submersion
It’s the staying under until your chest expands so far that it burns,
The first love is the willingness to offer him the last oxygen in your lungs and trusting him not to take it…
But he does.

It’s the moment when your body needs to inhale…
It’s the massive intake of air once you resurface.
It’s being lightheaded and dizzy from almost drowning
But knowing you’d do it all again, if he asked you to.

It’s being insane…
and not minding.

Morning’s first scent
bathes an arousing room 

with musty fragrance
of spoiled passion.


Clothing forms little
mountains of disarray
on faded carpet.
Burned out cigarette butts
snake gray in the ashtray 

while tepid water
with a hint of scotch
wiggles in the glasses
on the end table. 

Bodies stir with memories
of unwelcomed
interruptions. Unspent fluids
still surge in naked *****. 


Her eyes feast on stubble
sharp enough to chafe her neck.
Memories of the previous evening’s
unfulfilled promise incite tightening
between her legs. She smiles,
snuggles into the crook
of his summer-tanned arm.
No phone calls, or knocks on the door
will deter her passion this morning.