I lent you dog-earred Bukowski,
                           you returned it unread.

A kiss, short but full of passion.

You've got a tempestuous past,
fulfilling all your desires.

What about your future?

Will it be with the one you love?
Or still driven by your sensual appetite?

How will your satisfy your hunger?
A sparing array of snacks?
Or a nightly feast of ambrosia?

A god is giving you a chance now,
to see if you are worthy.

Will you take it?
Be embraced by the light?
Or continue down the path of darkness?

The last time I saw my son
he was smiling
waving his little eight year-old hand
in front of his scarecrow-gold hair
shoulder-length

The last time I saw my son
he was joyous
at simply another day of school
mom taking him in her car as I stood by
unemployed

The last time I saw my son
he was blissfully unaware
of simply another day of sorrow for us
and the unatainability of life
missing

But I smiled back and the window between us
hid my welling tears
as I stood by the car that pulled away

The last time I saw my son
I knew he'd come looking for me
but I wouldn't be here any longer
just words written and songs made
photos and pictures and comments online
a ghost of electricity
a haunting blast of brain and regret
whose last thought was
the last time I saw my son.