Will time ever find the
the time to:

Bless all of the times we needed to say sorry?
Stretch the seconds into minutes
allow us to write that epic novel?
Pause long enough to regain my sleep
I lost on all the Red Carpets?
Bring back the days
of Audrey Hepburn?

Grace Ms. Kelley or achieve
the illusive dreams we seek.

Or give me the time
to watch the eleven ******
I downloaded,
last night.

Dear diary,
My simple thoughts are poetry,
Everyone here says.

So, last call, here at the Jesus Bar and Grill Motel,
I have the feeling there is more to be done and so I said,
give me one more shot of Tequila,
I will tell you the whole story,
from beginning to end. It all started in Eden
then collided with a son
who's next coming brought the end. The whole thing was too long, for the Jesus
Bar and Grill Motel, said last call,
so, I said,
give me one more shot and
I will tell you more.

me sweet
me breath me
breadth my depth
me baby my maybe?

My hope
my dope
me crack
I lack

you are
what I desire
my fire me star me
rage
my calm
me psalm
me tomorrow

My yesterday
my night
my awaking
my sight

I will
seek forever,
you.

I do,
will await

you,
tonight.

You are sweet as a sugar fed rose on a bed of imagery
I am still
an *******.

You are tight as a spring coiled around vision
I am still
your fiddle.

Days are supposedly bright sunshine
my baby.
I am still
the night.

Nights, most days, are so enjoyable.
I am still
smiling.

Time is painted in your eyes.
I am still
ticking.

A foible, you are my still,
my day, my night.
I am still
yours.

That drunken altercation
With legs writhing and
Palms larruped
Leaving hand-shaped welts
On pink skin,
That error that cannot be undone
Will forever haunt me,
But the ghost follows
Two hosts.

When he looks into my eyes
And feels himself within me
The vision of the other man
Tip-toes around the back
Of his brain,
Lingering like the smell
Of garbage,
Prompting him that he’s
Not the only one to
Kiss my lips,
Or trace the curves of
My hips,
Or tell me that he loves me.

Though he gave his forgiveness,
Let me stay inside his heart,
The memory is crippling,
And a part of me is lost.

i still spell gray
with an a

not an e
in my po-etry

does it matter
to the grammar?

hoo's to say

says the owl
to the vowel

it's a gray area.

r  ~ 10/17/14

the help at McDonald's
I am salty and crisp
like an order of fries,
I am an ***.

I order, every time,
a dozen oysters,
****       off the youngsters,
or    confuse.

One  once, a young cute girl,  laughed
until she ****** all over.

Such a scene.

I would get ****** too, at 7 bucks an hour.

breeeathe

r ~ 10/18/14