I made a film last night about a man
who hates  neckties—silk, cotton,
and bow.  It is a documentary
of sorts,  that reveals  his
drawbacks, peccadillos,
discrepancies, lies,
and misdeeds.

I am the only character, me,
you can not watch it.
Never.   It is mine
to slowly edit,
and wallow
as I view.

A peaceful day  
This day was a non-event woke up at nine had a coffee,
a shower and then on the training bike for an hour
The sun was shining as we had breakfast of boiled eggs
nothing could upset me my wife had been dreaming
of a broken mirror, my dream was we had gone to Italy,
Venice I think lots of water in smelly canals.
We were eating at the local restaurant it is clean and we
know the staff tipping them would be an insult.
When the place was empty, I got up grabbed a knife and
killed my wife several times because I didn’t want to go
to Italy and no one had ever asked me what I wanted.
The police were kind and understanding let me drive home
by myself.  At home, my wife had bandaged feet she had
stepped on shared of glass from the broken window which
shows dreams sometimes come true

it’s like lightning surging through my brain
from head to toe it’s electrifying
with each step it’s like an earthquake
shattering my bones filled with poison
that I just can’t seem to get enough of
with strength greater than my kryptonite
it’s shaking all of my insides
nostalgia swarms my body and i’m trapped
under the clouds lost in an endless nightmare

a.d

I can not find Mae's recipe for Swedish rye bread;
I thought it was taped to the fridge next

to obituaries, and the phone number
of Joon’s Korean restaurant.  She knew

the bread recipe the way one knows the feel
of a lover’s back or a favorite character

of a cherished book.  I seldom think of her,
mostly when I am hungry or cold.  Today

I am both, and it is only September;
what will become of me by December?

Her soft neck philosophy
Teaching a class of wonders
Raise your hand in the moonlight
Throwing intelligence around the room
Catching kisses in the water
©

On our third date you forgot
your diaphragm;
the infant died,

it was best you said,
babies are wormy
cats, always sick.

I  think of you
when women
with high

heeled black boots
walk past and their
***** jut like Scottish hills;

you are gone but I feel you
in my arm crook, still,
as winter’s bird.

Call me Gillespie
At the thought of choosing sides
This all makes me Dizzy
Where ones befuddled and the other lies

White toothed grinning alligator
Beady-eyed crocodile
Which will we regret later
We'll find out for sure after awhile

One to build a wall to keep us all
Safe from those who want a home
The other swinging doors wide open
Sweeping out deplorable's

Reading from the dictionary
They would make a lot more sense
Starting out with the B's
Blah, Blah, Blah, He said, She said

I wonder when we the sheeple
Will stand up and call their bluff
Give this all back to the people
Finally say enough's enough

Is this the best they have to offer
Who's to win this losing game
Will it be the constant cougher
Or the billionaire that's clearly insane

Sadly, this crazy train needs a conductor
To carry this fragile freight
Watch out for the Loco-motion though
As we jump track on this runaway