I went to San Francisco last night
and picked up a couple of Chicks
I took them home and they laid eggs
and I fried them with hominy grits

I would reach into my chest
And wrestle my heart back into rhythm
Because only beating hearts can take a beating,
And maybe you don’t know it
But if making me bleed, leaves you wanting more
Then each time you disappoint me
I’ll keep a little life in my veins
So I can be resuscitated.

It's funny
that inspiration
only knocks on
the doors of your mind
in times of heartache
in times of heartbeats
but never
in times of peace
... and as twisted as it sounds
I like that

I surrendered my senses
to every word
that left your mouth
and landed
on my lips
silencing
all sense
of doubt

All my ghosts
meet me in the morning
for coffee.

We chat about old times,
what's happening,
possibilities, politics,
*** and aging.

It's better
than a book club
because
you don't have
to bring
dessert.

Ghosts
have no
appetites.

mce

There’s a harbor,
In which I‘m swimming
Sideways
With a neighbor.
We’re savoring a gray day,
Faintly misting inlay.

I looked to them to say,
“It’s such a drowsy day.”
To which, with weary,
They said,
“I think you mean dreary.”

At this I tilted my head,
And yawned,
“No.
I feel I mean drowsy.”

In opposites we
Watch hushed mist drops
Silently
Drift
down.

I heard someone say
Science is a noose,
Society a stool,
And philosophy
The dubious
Kick.

Well I'd say:

Society sets the rope,
Stool,
And gives the kick.

Science saves my life
Before I hit
The end of my rope.

And philosophy helps
Me cope
With the reality
That everything
I'm told to believe
By society
Was meant
to set me free,
while secretly
They said,
"Ah, Schucks!
Let's hang'em instead!"