babe sweet makes a hasty get away
in her 57 Chevy
after robbing the bank
of its pen and pencil sets
someday she's gonna be a writer
and she don't want to run outa ink
not while the words can run like
fine wine from her stumbling fingertips
her drunkard style staggers through the clean vision
with a brush stroke that wanders between the lines
and sometimes wanders out of em
and straight to the borders of insanity
she pauses and thinks to her left behind lover
that the last ship of my life
may indeed have sailed but your not among my regrets
and that's enough for her
so she commits her pilfering of the salesclerk's pocket
and flees with relief pasted falsely on her face
babe sweet drives fast fast to the southern town
and picks up a smile she saw standing by the
side of the dirt road
but little did she realize that
some dirt don't wash off
and her new comfy smile had baggage
of his own in the form of a colt revolver
with a few spent shells
spilling outa his pocket
so they run into the night trying to escape their
separate desperate pasts
she looked at him with a lonely yearning
but he openly saw only that he wanted to get straight
with god and his mamma
if he could only work up the courage to abandon
this trail of tears
they both collapsed into a small  hotel
down in floridas treasure coast
and spent days waiting and watching the evening news
for sings that the world had even noticed them
they are there still
babe sweet and her regretful smile
look to everybody like mona lisa recovering from a ******
someday he will get the courage to get right
someday she will go home to her bed and breakfast
but for now they gather suntans and scrape a living
out of cast off bottle caps
happy enough together and sometimes that's enough

My rat had babies,
five days ago.
They are eight in number,
little pink and black wrinkly fingers.
Closed eyes,
Ears not fully formed,
Wriggling on my palm
in the depths of their sleeping.
I came home late last night,
and i was drawn to see them,
so i went and felt for them, hiding in their nest.
A hair twisted around one's neck and one's foot.
Tweezers and pins and delicate maneuvering,
allowed us to get them free.
They are ok now,
but one wee boy will limp his first steps
even though i stayed up all night,
raising his leg and massaging it,
hoping to drain fluid from his swollen limb,
giving him kisses
and casting healing spells.
Good vibes don't fix everything.

I'll drop a twenty dollar bill into the take-a-penny tray at the local gas station today
A tiny donation to the broken mother with four kids who needs a tank of gas to get her to a job that barely pays her the money she needs to feed her children
She goes without tonight

I'll smile at the Walmart door greeter this week
An acknowledgement that will ripple through her subconscious to tell her that suicide is not an option
The boy on check out lane 4 is

I will pull over expeditiously for the ambulance racing by
The new father to be is craddling his newborn baby
Crying out helplessly while his fiance bleeds on their new kitchen floor
Her life will not be lost today

Your reactions to the world around you are what show the world that it does not revolve around you
You revolve around it
Feet planted firmly
Gravity holds down the ability to stay content to my skin like microbs burying into a foreign body

Hold the door tomorrow
You might meet your reason to wake up

Why do you rob me?

toys,                                            (phones, laptops, headphones, music..)
times with friends,                   (won't you have a drink? a smoke?..)
times with family,                    (ugh i hate them..)
food,                                           (don't eat that..)
dances,                                        (lemme touch you..)
body image,                               (you looked better….)
photographs,                             (fake smiles..)
dates,                                           (***..)
religion                                       (haha.. wait. you don't really believe that.. do you?)

If only
you could be just a little more
****** up
so every one else
could see
some of what I see.

Sincerely,
one of the victims,
of this preposterous, soul diminishing system.
just an anonymous person,
who can't embrace anything but your beliefs in the right column. (oh so certain...).

We were like the sun,
A nebula of broken words that led straight to warmth.
Your hands were mine to hold,
And rub.
They look
Colder and shadowed purple
From halfway across the room.  
Your eyes, a swarm of bees,
But your taste buds are no longer satisfied with honey;
They crave something greener.
We smiled at each others flaws,
And skipped stones to maybe one day glide across the water,
without being scraped by salt.
Your forearms healed each wound inflicted by burns.
Hours spend straightening your shoulders
To walk among a rare breed,
As connected to the fire as you.
Close to the brim,
Bursting with love,
You must have looked back and fallen in,
To the smoke your lungs couldn't deny.
But don't deny me,
the right to love you still.

I took myself out
for coffee

I hope she likes your singing.

I was sad.
So I told them.
I am sad. I said.
Is that so? They said.
Swallow these. They said.
So i did.

I was still sad.
And I told them this.
It's no better. I said.
Is that right? They said.
Well try these. They said.
And I did.

I got anxious.
I told them.
I am scared. I said.
You oughtn't be. They said.
Take this. They said.
I obliged.

I felt nothing.
So I told them.
I feel empty. I said.
Oh good. They said.
We're glad to help. They said.
And I sighed.

something has clogged
my truth within me
rusted pipes
deny me
my iv drip of honesty
the syllables that used to slip
right out
now crawl
with the echoed
tip tap
of blind rats
finding their way
to light