You clipped her wings so she would fall,
but she learned to fly without your voice
to soar into the atmosphere.

You were her morning and evening star,
the guiding lighthouse on the shore;
you were her adoration.

You didn't understand that she truly loved you,
how much of her heart she gave to you that you
trampled on and discarded for your own pleasure.

Now she's going to fly
grow
love
be free
while you're still in your chains
of heart games and misleading.

In short, she's always going to
**be better
than you...

did you expect my flowers
to bloom among you?
what could grow on your dry land?
only weeds.

two of them
to my naked, simian eye
are identical twins

though one, a mere millennium
of light years away, performs its
magical fusion yet today

the other disappeared before
dinosaurs devolved; its phantom
photons now without a source

but both poke pinholes
in the blanket of night, gifting
what some call divine light

not I, for if gods were igniting
those gaseous masses, they would both
yet be furious and fiery white

and not tricking my meager sight,
deceiving me into believing, there is
eternity in an eternally dying sky

notice small things,
that she touched her hair
that's why I look into her eyes
to see how big her pupils are

life is small on a grand scale.
and  grandness is often in the details
of her movements small
that hand  on your arm

the way the breeze leaves,
only her hair alone
and the sun though covered
always shines like diamonds

in HER  eyes ....

We cracked the sun wide open
and drank till light spilled across our chins
then down our chests
until our shirts were drenched
your pale skin and pink petals
Glimmering through the sheer white wool

And not even the least put off
You tore your blouse right from your back
and roared with laughter and delight
tearing mine while running toward the shore

We pulled two stars down from sunset skies
And hung them from your gentle lobes
And though they tried could not eclipse
The light from your true self exposed

Growing weary from the day
We tore  fabric from the clouds
And made a blanket on the ground
Near the waters edge

We slipped out of our sun soaked clothes
And drank so gently from the moon
From root to crown in deep embrace
made love like lovers, friends and fools

We thanked the sun and thanked the stars
While drifting off to dream
interlaced our hands and legs and hearts
And rocked the night to sleep

Jazz women clap in unison, black.
All the boys in the club move
way, way over, for your health,
sister.
Some bartenders smoke ****
while polishing glasses, big or
small.
Cartoons play on box t.v.s
while people look at hubs on
smartphones.
Some gruff guy points at you
-- and, yes, it could have been
me --
we have a phone call, I think.
Who uses a payphone, any-
-****-more.

Choir children double for choir
mice.
Helicopter parents hover their
hands above their juniper drinks.
Gesturing at poorly dressed kids
has never been this in fashion.
Be perfect for the camera;
this moment will be captured
by synthetic eye.
Moms and Brads turn to
  look at us laugh.  Which has
always been in poor taste.
They say my poetry is bad
and your music is **** -- but
I guess it's nice that someone
  gave us those views.

Columbia and Harvard
seem like distant planets.
But that's where we'll be,
supposedly.
You with your Guinness,
me with my Tito's.