I know death will spare
This love I have for you,
And free its form forever,
To float and fill the hearts of others,
Who listen for its beat.


I love you. I miss you.
I ask strangers if they know you,
I talk to you out loud on the subway,
I stare into store windows,
Sometimes for an hour or more.

The only point of love, and I do love you,
Is to prove to others the possibility is there,
To imagine everything at once,
To love without words or contradiction,
I love you.
Is it enough?

How desperate my life has become,
As I fall out of love with myself,
And into everything that's you.

How cruel my life has become,
My thoughts are thick with razor's thin,
Could I brave myself for you.

How short my life has become,
I hope-hide and watch you sleep and breathe and dream
Could I die for you.

It took all my life to find you,
Never once did I give up,
Despite hints of hesitation,
Adventures churned into mix and up.

I kiss your lips, such a gentle mist
Fragile shower of taste and  triste,
To hug you whole, turns time upside down,
Our life together almost lost now found.

I like teasing you, she said,
And lifted her tube top up,
Half way down aisle 6.

They were searching for mung beans,
To make soup,
To drink out of a cup,
While they swing in the hammock,
On their porch.

How did I ever find you, he said,
As he turned her around,
Kissed her neck,
And hugged her warmly from behind.

I will not cry.
I'm a man.

I will not complain.
I am free.

I will not ****,
I will protect.

I will not be a victim.
I have choice.

I will be kind.
But I will not lie.

I will never abandon.
Ever.

Carla said I should furl my anxiety,
Ravel it up in a ball without conviction, she said,
Your curses can’t be creased and folded flat,
Like a dress shirt with pearl buttons and a fancy tie.
Jesus no, she said,
Stuff everything you feel into your closet
Pile it on top of your worn out shoes,
Your forgotten purchases,
And your frightening memories of your mother.

Your weakest link is concern, Carla said,
And your colossal waste of worry,
My god, you are mesmerized by outcomes,
Your pretense that life is a chess game
Is beneath insult,
Do you really think you can see three moves ahead?
There is no tidy way, she said,
To make amends with yourself,
You have dissected your life into an unfathomable mess,
The best you can do now,
Is pause…
Perhaps for a day, maybe two.

As usual I had no idea what Carla was talking about.
At least on the first go round.

I want you to walk among us
And read the story of the world, Carla said,
Humanity is desperately trying to tell you something,
Every public word, every sign, every misspelled message has meaning,
Be brave enough to stop and read things twice.

And so I went out to read the words of the world.
Words that whip and whirl around me every day.

My jam, blueberry as I recall, told me it was pure,
On every packet as bold as a White House lie.

My mechanic informed me,
He has a licensed inspection facility.
In that case, I told him
I want my government inspected
For flaws and lies and hate and deception
And of course check the tire pressure all the way round.

My gym informed me, it boldly declared
That I can burn calories,
Up to 36 hours
Post workout.
I want to burn effigies and look alike dolls
And smash the man in the face with a shovel.

My bank, the callous *****, the *****, the stain,
Told me, The more we get together, the happier we are.
And I want to get together in a march of a million angry men,
Determined to set things right, to hang the traitors,
At least by their ankles and pelt them with marshmallows,
And then smash them all in the face with a shovel.

Starbucks holds still like a library with no bound books,
The staff cling to their smiles as if they were butterflies
About to catch the next breeze and flutter away,
But their sign made my day.
Grab something good it said,
And I thought they meant an idea,
A value,
A concept,
A plan,
A truth,
But perhaps they just meant a *****
How sick and sad and stupid and insipid,
He is a monster

There were many more signs, persuasion everywhere,
Offers for my hair, my pain,
My new home complete with its own memory,
A boxing class for girls only, which seemed a bit off,
Don’t women have to learn
How to smash a man in the face with a shovel,
Why box with girls when it’s the hands and eyes,
And sniffy nose of a man that needs to be smashed flat.


Carla told me, over a glass of scotch, neat,
And a mountain man cigar,
That the world is wilting and the signs are everywhere.
Beware this one she said, he has the mind of child,
The temperament of a rabid dog
And the IQ of a Q-tip.
Yes, that’s what he thinks IQ  means, Carla said,
And downed her scotch with a frown.

If I cannot run, I will not fall,
If I cannot kneel, I will not crawl.
If I cannot sleep, I will not dream,
If I cannot wake, I will not scheme.
If I cannot lie, I will not speak,
If I cannot die, I will not weep.

Think in questions,
Respond with a why,
Asking permission,
Always comply.

The world is shrinking,
To just a small screen,
Mute me, compute me,
I'm now a machine.

He learned English.
By rereading
The instructions
The ingredients,
The head office addresses,
The countries of origin,
The nutritional estimates,
And the sizes and weights
Off the back
Of the heat and ready to eat cookie dough packages,
In aisle 5.


He studied the words
And salivated over the contents
Progressed quickly
And memorized the recipes of other
Easy to bake products.
Pictures of cakes and butter tarts in his dreams
A joyful discovery,
The sweet promise
Of the full shelves
In a giant grocery store,
Two blocks from the single room
He made into his home.

He was hungry. Always.
For all things,
And motivated by nightmares of wolves,
Packs of predators in his dreams
And his empty stomach,
Ruled him with a continuous hum,
A sort of tinnitus of his entire body
And so
To spend an hour in the dessert section,
Of a building full to the sadistic edge of its light fixtures
With food,
Made him drift again
And wish for better things.

Eventually he graduated to cookbooks
Second hand bookstores,  
Memorized ‘from scratch’ the recipes of hundreds of dishes,
Crispy potato skins, eggplant caviar, chicken- avocado and tomato soup,
He became a code breaker,
An industrial spy with intent
His focus narrowed by near starvation
Within a year he could recall
And write down
4500 different ways to prepare food.  
Each day he would memorize one or two new recipes,
An exercise
Where he learned measurement and actions.
He taught himself to stir, to ladle, to sear,
And he learned to convert grams and ounces and cups,
He knew temperature equally in Celsius and Fahrenheit,
He learned to sliver, to filet, to carve, and
To put butter under the skin of a guinea hen,
And roast it into a golden delicate anticipation.
Allant knew how to prepare.

On January 1st when all of New York stayed in bed
For a few extra hours
He approached a food truck in Brooklyn,
Whose owner was tired and hung-over.
Using the universal sign language of calm strangers,
Along with his easy charm
He convinced the weary man to let him cook.


Within 15 minutes he had made grilled peaches and split sausages
Over which he poured a light sauce made from
Orange, mango and mustard.
The food truck owner tasted a spoonful
And devoured the magnificent creation in two bites,
The look on his face as if he had seen God.


Allant went from truck to stall to indoor grill
Until line ups went around the block.
He was grateful of course,
Grateful for the hunger,
The night sweats brought on by memories
Of evil beyond belief,

He worshiped his good fortune,
Spoke loudly about freedom as a gift,
Loyalty as a lifelong obligation and
Guilty that the world had given him a chance.
He became
Unshakable in his belief
That others must be helped.
So he made the immigrant promise,

And never for one second
For the rest of his life,
Did he ever refuse a tired man a seat
A hungry man a meal,
A broken man an ear,
A lonely man his comfort,
Or an angry man his smile.
This ,he said, is the dream.

He must.
Man-up
Still the supercilious fear,
God-****-it.
Ignite your courage.
Kiss her.
Right now

Lean over.
Lean in.
Lean the **** in.
And tremble as you begin.

She wants you.
A gentle gravity.
The pull.
Of you to her.
It's real.
Isn't it.

The carnivorous nature of desire.

Devour, taste, tongue and task
Lips, hands, zippers, clasps,
Bed springs groan, grunts and gasps.
Slippery, silken, smooth and fast.

After.

Wax and  wander on lust's libation
Through a maze of tumescent conversation
It begins to feel like compensation,
Until she dresses without hesitation,
An intimacy exchanged, turns to alienation.

Trauma isn't memories.

It's the inability to turn things into memory.

What hurt's us most.

Lingers.

Would you rather,
Be insulted or assaulted.

Would you rather,
Be hit in the face with a wild salmon,
Or have your iris' turn bright red and your pupils white.

Would you rather,
Have loved so intensely that you could not breathe,
Your mind spun like a child's top, glee became your all day smile, you felt at one with a vast universe and a sense of awe and purpose  overwhelmed you every minute of the day,

Or have a lifetime supply of Cheetos. All you can eat.

Charity is never given,
It's always just a loan,
Kindness is a favour,
Returned when we atone.

It's you.
I think you said those words first,
And instantly I understood.

It's you.
Unexpectedly.

It's you.
It's us
This We, we feel,
Predates this life.
Survives this life.
It's you.
For eternity.
Forever.

It's you.

He asked her to run away with him.

Abandon all the nonsense, he said,

The whiplash of city life,

Where love is calculated,

Always a ratio expressed as an investment.


Flee to Panama with me, he begged her,

And we will watch the slow motion freighters,

Fat with their overkill,

Flat bottom barges with their smooth decks

Piled high with Lego like boxcars,

The Navy cutters,  sharp shorn sailors,

Crisp salutes, code talkers eager to obey,

On board their aptly named destroyers,

We will watch their steel hulls

Float up hill and mediate the thick flora,

Gun barrels, rude and pointed fast forward, ready to ****.




At night, in the jungle, he promised her,

We will throw handfuls of diamonds,

Up into the sky

And watch them sparkle for hours,


In the starry dark our eyes will dance

And tease,

As you shout your pleasure,

Good god no one ***** quietly in paradise, he told her,

The constant cacophony of the night hunters,

The simian sentries,

To whom noise

Is both whimsy and centuries of security,

The curious monkeys

The Giant macaw,

The fauna creeps

To the outer edge of our campfire.

To watch our curious

And temperamental exchange,

Of sap and soul.


Meet me there he begged her.


No, she replied,softly

In a way that always

Sounds like yes

To him.

I jig for death,
Dark precious friend,
Able dispense,
Of mad men’s end.

A selfish tempt,  
Most potent cure,
All pain re-dealt,
Court now one fewer.

You want to dance with me,
Gyrate and percolate,
Clap it up, clairebear, and jigg.

C'mon, my flicka bonnie lass,
Jeg and bustamove,
Chica bonita and stella konstatine,
I love all night, now you.

Odd place for  funeral, She said, as she took her seat on the merry-go- round.

Life is a carousel, He replied, and sat down beside her.

The seasons and the wheels go round and round, She smiled.

And in the end we send in the clowns, He remarked and leaned over to kiss her gently on the lips.

I publish ******* by the gig,
Silly, simple rhymes that jig,
Maybe one day I'll remember,
The path I took to poet- pretender.

I really don't know how I got here,
A drunken quest to be a Shakespeare,
Perhaps it's all a dream and drama,
And in the end perhaps it's karma.

In hearts, love's gentle,
Binds souls with a timeless grace,
Eternal embrace

Can we be angry and kind,
At the one and same time.

Can we love and abandon,
What am I  misunderstandin'.

Can we drown in our greed,
Consuming more than we need,

Can we ignore and adore
Pretending love equals war.

Tears, quiet tears, silence, just breathe.

I breathe to live, I hold my breath,
I seek, I search, I’m blind at best,
My fingers sand skin smooth and soft,
I kiss, caress, kind words crisscrossed .

I live to love, I love just you,
Well I love others, so it isn’t true,
But you are passion, my true desire,
Naked, flushed you push me higher.

If I could sleep and wake and dream,
I’d beg you be my secret scheme,
Let’s run until we cannot breathe,
Let’s run so neither never leave.

Can we bacon wrap our mentalation,
Poke badgers with a spoon,
Marijane our neighbours,
Do a solid afternoon.

Will you hold hands orange county,
Stare jar jar binks alone.
Will you stay with me forever,
Can we slip into the zone.

There is a luxury
In your naked offer.

A Christianity in your pout and pose,
The promise of a second coming,
Perhaps a third,
If I kneel and praise your tiny lord.

Spread your legs.

I think it and you obey
And you pull your knees up with your palms
To offer me a menu.
A damp hollow inside a moist harbour,
Above a forbidden entrance.

You smooth yourself.
Sample me your smile suggests.
Taste me. Touch me.
Your eyes glisten with,
An addict's anticipation.

The scent inside of you,
Creates an uncontrollable hunger,
Your body is a now a feast and
I envy you.

I kindle, I savour,
Rim the edge your event horizon,
A forbidden temptation
Orbits around the pucker of a black hole,
Before a broad flat tongue
Begins to lick you,
Like a strawberry ice cream cone.

Be as promiscuous as you like I whisper.
Raise your hips to meet my mouth,
Seal the suction of my lips with clitoral precision,
Hold my head with firm soft hands
Then as light as a hummingbird,
I will begin to speak in tongues,
Until a madness descends.

Kneel…
He’d used his Jesus voice again,
And as she explained to Jeweliette afterward,
How could she, a mere menstrual sinner,
Openly defy the lord...
Especially in his well-paid hour of need.


They burst into giggles,
Splashing coffee onto the ground,
Jamming jelly donuts into their mouths,
Adrift on a messy concrete sidewalk,
Surrounded and alone
As a tired world raced from a to b,  
Cash rich and co-conspirators,
Young women with sore knees and aching jaws
Gorgeous angels of the sorority,
Smooth and innocent,
Their eyes bright and tarnished halos.

The thing was she liked it.
He had only to speak this one word and
She instantly tasted caramel and could smell the ocean.

When he continued,
Ordering her to put her hands behind her back,
His voice would slip and slide and coil around her,
Confronting her with a quiver,
A shiver, hypnotized,
By the searching tongue of a sun-warmed python,

His tone was soft and hard at the same time.
How do men do that, she wondered,
What was this unique and masculine ability
This way of his
To be non-negotiable and kind and convincing
All at the same time.

It is no wonder they lie so well, she thought,
They’re pinch proud of this inherent skill,
They adore the sound of their own deceit,
And she could not stop herself from licking her lips.

Should we enjoy life while others suffer.
Right now all us know there are horrors beyond words
Occurring in this second.

A girl child is being ****** to her death,
Buried up to her neck in dirt, while grown men
Throw heavy rocks at her head,
And gossip amongst themselves,
Until they fracture her skull several times and she dies slowly.
Oh they put a hood over her head,
So none will have to look her in the eye.

A boy just blew himself and others to pieces.
A child,
He walked six blocks
Shivering from the chill of final minutes,
The awkward explosives rasping the skin on his hips raw,
Praying to a degenerate god,
Until his uncle presses a button.

A man is being tortured to death
By an adult in a uniform,
A uniform worn with pride by millions,
A uniform stained by hypocrisy and confusion,
And the mud of rights and wrongs.

A mother is watching her child starve to death.
Can you place yourself there,
A single room,
No heat or light, no way to protect your child,
No one to help you, death a constant whisper,
The suicidal despair of watching your child die,
A child who pleads into insanity, for you to help.

Perhaps it is happening only two blocks
From where you sit,
Or two million blocks
From where you sleep and fornicate and wish.
But we know.
We know.
It is happening and
I know
That
You know.

You, the one reading this poem right now,
And I
We know this truth.
So now what?

We can hide who we are,
But only from ourselves.

Others see us much more clearly.
Know thyself.
It is a difficult thing to do

I want to live lavish, forest hill, xbox live.
I want to feel woozy on valentines day and
Logy when I'm in love, a rainbow smile.

I cannot get shiven again, lost and unforgiven,
Beeg kwish and hold my hand,
Tell me things will be ok.
They will. I know they will.

What is regret,
But a moment of fret,
Is life a missed opportunity.

We live and we die,
Surely I'm not that guy
Who goes to the grave without scrutiny.

If I could repeat,
This whole meet and greet,
I would learn to lie much more truthfully.

And I would learn about love,
And this mystery above,
A god who rules so brutally.

No, we get a few years,
And we shed many tears,
Suffice a few things said in our eulogy.

So smile and remain,
Yes love is a chain,
And kindness always brings unity

( Kindness. Why do I have to remind myself constantly!)

A night moon bold and bright,
A diamond sky with tinsel light,
A girl, a boy, a kiss, a cry,
Lover's list to quiet sigh.

I was a chain child, a pookie,
A hellion with a smile,
Tied tight to the backyard clothesline,
No doubt, no kapp.

I got loose. Vicked down highway 2.
Two years old.
Five miles between person a yo-yo
And drunk parents.

I was laughing, lizzing,
The highway clocked up, ripping and running.

The cops finally tagged me, brought me home.
Barely remember but I do.
I was running from them.
Still.

Twitter tag and Insta-push,
Facebookish posts and text ambush

I know how to message you
To tap and touch, to maybe view.

I love the way you message back,
LOL and all of that.

Poetry by emoji... maybe
Except Eliot, he thinks I'm crazy

Sit closer to the edge.
Move a brave bit nearer,
Put your curious nose over the side,
And look down.
See how far you can fall.

Now look up,
Shield your eyes from a constant sun,
Breathe calmly and focus on details,
Talk to yourself,
See how far you can rise.

You will die.
So, when will you decide.

Carla said we must talk about love.
If it doesn’t define, it doesn’t exist, she said,
And pulled the two nearest stools away from the bar.

Has anyone you have ever known- anyone-
Ever offered you even a pitiful explanation
Of this bewildering word
She asked me,
In that way she has
Of not asking me at all.

She lit her pipe,
Her first exhale a ceremonial cloud,
A white tobacco fog,
A linger that purchased my childhood memories,
The pungency of three fingers of scotch, neat, at dawn,
The south face picture window ablaze with
The painful flood of an early sun,
A tin can stereo in full lament about cowboy love
And the inevitability of betrayal,
My father off key,
All his memories a libel and a calumny.

If I say I lust for you, you know what I mean, Carla said,
If I question your loyalty there is no obfuscation,
If I tell you in my sleepy voice the wine is delicious,
You are tempted to sample,
But if a man tells a woman he loves her
What conclusions will she abide,
Carla asked me with a stare.

Do you even know anyone who can utter the words I love you,
Without feelings of hysteria, near mental collapse,
Or worse-farce, she asked.

We tell people we love them to calm them,
To manipulate them,
To play magic tricks on them, Carla said,  
Love is an adolescent stage,
A toxic teenage mix and of oestrogen and testosterone,
Romeo and Juliet were children for ***** sakes, Carla said,  
As she drank half of her breakfast scotch,
And began to blow perfect smoke rings
In the mirror still stale air
Of the Rock Hen all day, all night, all the time bar.

I just know I love my dog, I replied,
And I held my finger up,
To see if Carla could circle it perfectly with a smoke ring,
Which she did.

And I don’t even know why, I said,
I guess I love how he needs me and doesn’t resent it,
Even as I disappoint him and neglect him,
Forget to feed him, force him to *** in the rain,
He still wags his appreciation with gusto.

Perhaps we can only love our dogs,
Carla replied,
Or perhaps we should all have tails,
And she ordered us lemonade and tequila
With scrambled eggs, french toast and a *** of blueberries.

Archie and Gigs,
Slow dancing, toes touching,
Maybe what,
The tenth Christmas song in a row,
Peanut shells crunch under their soft shoes,
The bar clock slips past midnight,
Her arms in a loose noose around his neck,
His hands on that perfect powder puff *** of hers,
Sentimental embezzlers,
God he loved the feel of her cheeks in his hands,
Made him feel like he’d achieved something
With this pathetic life of his,
Didn’t matter how bruised he was,
When she walked into the room,
He smiled,
Every **** time
And well *******
If that weren’t the signature of love,
Then ,as Archie often said,
He would eat pigeon crumbs and throw his shoes in the East river
And although nobody could quite figure what he meant by that,
Gigs knew he’d sooner stop breathing, than miss one dance with her,
He’d rather live in the trunk of a car full of spiders and bats,
(Which he did one early weekend to prove his love to her,
Archie said love had to be demonstrated or it was just phony *******,
Anybody can say stuff Archie said but a real man always takes action)
,
And harsh truth, she was ****** hooked
On the old ******,
Her poet , her man, her rare and rough ,
It just felt too **** good to see that smile,
That twinkle, the sly eye and his hands fit her *** perfectly
So could there be any better proof
That they were they.

One more Archie asked
And Gigs did her sigh with the horse flutter at the end
And Archie, smiling like a buzz saw
Lifted her off her feet and knew he was alive

I cannot stop the slip and slide,
I pretend a choice, no place to hide.
The world spins round the same each day,
I sit and wonder, my thoughts at play.

There's no free will, it isn't there,
The physics firm, no why, no where,
The past is the only past allowed,
The future set, the science proud.

So if your life is just a map,
The route laid out,your death the trap,
Then worry less and laugh out loud,
Your date is set, no tears allowed.

It has rained for eleven hours.

Sometimes harder,
Sounds like a million woodpeckers,
Marbles dropped on a concrete floor,
The fear is hail.

Sometimes softer,
Mist and sunlight always make me
Imagine champagne.
The fear is indolence.

Something wonderful,
About a cloudy day and a long rain,
Water is a necessity.
In abundance, it calms us down.

I like hiding behind a mask.

I love guessing if your smile will last.

I love your eyes as the only part of your disguise,

That I can see.

I love your mystery.

But then again,

When your mask is the only thing you wear,

Well then I know there is a god,

Because now, you are the answer to my prayer

Relief is the essential,
To everything that's joy,
Our ecstasy's revealed,
When our worry is destroyed.

Matter, anti-matter,
Just look in the mirror,
There's two of you still standing,
You never need to fear.

Things work out for better
Only seldom for the worse,
One side is our fear of death,
The other the reverse.

How long do I wait for myself to arrive.

I feel as if
Maybe,

I dropped in years ago,
And no one was at home.

Did I miss my calling?

Did you?

Things I regret:


I've been lucky.

I will not try harder.
Anymore.

This is me.

I will no longer improve,
Or promise to do better

This is me.

I will not kneel to a god,
Or bow to an idea,
Or cower in the shadow of the ordained.
No. Never.

This is me

I will not beg for love,
Or cry for forgiveness.
Or apologize for my thoughts.

This is me.

I'm the best that I can be.
And I'm ok with that.

This is me

Me, me, me,
Mmm, me, me, me,
Ma, me, me moo, mo,me.

Then me me me , ma mo me me
A me mo, me me me me.

ME, ME, ME
ME, ME, ME,
MEEEEE, EEEEE, EEE.

Til me,me me me,
A me me me.
Lo me, ma ,mo,mo me.

Where is your shift, my love, my bait
Your halo magic button,

That panther look pooled in your eyes,
You're risking up to somethin'.

Will you purr and arch your back,
Whiskers whisper caution,

Come to me my baby star,
With your kiss that gently hardens.

Can I count and can I dream,
Or wish upon a star,

Dreamin' bout your sour-sweet,
My thoughts are so bizarre.

Come to me,my dream date girl,
Make me man up right,

Love is on the menu now,
A  dark and moonless night.

I like talking to boys I do not know, she said.
I like *** except in hammock, I responded. And swallowed my tongue.

What is the fastest ******* have ever had, she queried.

With a girl I met in a cross walk. We stopped in the middle of the street. I said wanna, she said yes. My van was parked at the Safeway. I never knew her name. Nor her mine. It was pure.

If you buy me dinner, you have to marry me, my angel responds.
And I thought about apple pie for desert.

Look,
I learned late in life,
That lying is how you play the game.

It was only after her,
That I fully grasped
The importance of deception.

It never mattered how I felt,
Nor what I thought,
As I lay awake at night wondering where she was.


What mattered in the end was the myth.
The fable, the mime-silent girl at our table
How can I put a million pieces of us back together.

How.

Can we try?

A child's lost mitten wrinkled on the ground.
It's winter. A sure sign.

Can you tell me your story in one word or two,
Have you lived a best life with a sharp point of view,
I will summarize mine in a quick turn of phrase,
I longed for each Friday, dreading Monday's malaise.

Ah my patience waxes thin,
Silence suffers. annoyance wins,
Grit, persistence, self control,
An intolerant world, our new black hole.

Can we not or will we ever,
(I pause because I think I'm clever),
Be kind, be open, yes less is more,
Patience first then eagles soar.

Listen.
Or more appropriately I'm listening.

I know you aren't happy
And you are unsure of what to do,
And no matter how many times you try
It always comes back to money,

I get it.

This weird concept of trading our time for tokens

But the best advice I can give you
Is to not follow your dreams,
Ignore your passions,
Stop worshiping Disney.

Join forces with others if you can
And make money.
Its the only way to get free,
To reclaim your life,
To do something that matters.

You are soon dead.
That's the only sure thing.
Money will liberate you from fear.

That's as good as it gets