I like warm bodies
but it's not a place to
be alone.

You try making a Haiku
with body parts
buddy

we've come a long way (baby) before
midnight

when that clock strikes twelve
there is no way back

I live in the city but
I can't get the sound of sawmills
out of my head

what happens between now
and before (the next thing happens)?

that is a real concern.

lately, people have come up to me
in my face like,
and say, hey I like your poems, but
I can't understand why you have to be
so ...
and I fill in the words
... pregnant?

no, like a void.

oh, I say
in the past tense.

I still like, like her
she mightn't be real

she may have once
though she will
never admit it

I think a woman knows
if a man
knows what women like

if, what women like
is ******
then I don't really know

she knows that,
but that's not what she wants
tonight

she knows I will be with her
during the darkest nights

the inconsolable,
seemingly endless,
empty
alone
and utterly despairing
nights
when no light
enters
a dark closed cell
forever locked
in the coldest
hell.

today is a watershed.

the weather is now a topic of conversation
last weeks big game is not discussed
mums the word.

people hate teaser's
people love...
well we are working on that

the reason I have come here
before you today
is to take up space
to breath air that
would normally
waft up into an
eternal vacuum

to keep it short (and sweet)
there are two ways
always
and never one way
but its not binary
or right
or wrong
it is,
for as
long as
I stand here.

personally
this kind of writing never
did anyone any good

those who lost everything
know it's BS

those who have anything left
know to walk away.

once in awhile
there seems to be enough
room
to settle
past debts.

someone got a sponge
bob
doll
thingy and
tried to mop up
the **** that's
on the kitchen
wall.

for God's sake.

is this what life's come to?

I don't know (about you)
but
its not the first time
(this has happened)

hey.
quit patronizing me.

who are you?
what do you want?

you Paul Celon
searching
sucker.

the only karma you got
was given to you by someone else
don't even worry about it.

the tape skips
someone hit the turntable
my mom is crying because she thinks
she did everything she could
(for me?)
and yet

the one time when I have enough
clarity, compassion
tenderness

it gets flushed
down
the
toilet