Four life-size lipsticks jive, they
groove in tune with costumed comrades:
the monstrous tapeworm, unfitting for even
a family of whales, head held high like
homemade dragons on Chinese New Year, or
the bald man decked out in navy felt, garb
saturated with plastic spoons he
needs to get laid.

But the lipsticks in their red, red heels, with
human eyeholes hidden behind fabric, which
shows the blend of castor & chemicals, what hue:
dark crimson or barracuda berry?

They wear but a fraction of the common ingredients
used for dressing up,
makeup as the encore.
It stains the lips,
the coffee rims around the country,
the chests of restricted lovers.
Let us celebrate the metaphor of makeup
on this festus day--where it’s excusable to act out
the fantasies of being not
ourselves.

A White-Rumped Snowfinch
(Montifringilla Taczanowskii to be precise)
from a fat mother,
from the peak of ****** Lake’s juniper tree,
where seeds arrive each night at supper
(the depression never struck our nest!)
and from a fine education--
I’ve learned my ways around this town,
I’ve learned the hedges where the crows cackle
By the school, on the mountain roads.

I seek a regular, weekend fling,
No titles, just feelings.
Preferably females two years or older,
Fellow finches or bluebirds will do.

Let us dine on seasoned larva,
Sunflowers from the Biltmore fields.
I will peck your cheek,
You shall return the favor gratefully.
Let us seize breeding season
Before the flocks flock southward.


You know where to find me.

I zip up my astronaut suit,
plop the cubed veil onto my head.

In my hat, I am the observer
Living behind the netted television.

Dressed for pain avoidance.  No tears.
(Perhaps I should wear this out on dates)

A tall metal teapot with its accordion attachment rests,
on guard, in my yellow stained gloves.

Together, we enter the boxed colony
The teapot’s steam spurts clusters of buzzers into the air—

I grab coarse honeycombs, drain the
visions of nectar.

When the day is over, I gather the jars,
amber sucrose, the ***-colored concoctions, to head inside.

In the kitchen, the timer aches to sing as the clouds
From the pumpkin loaves clog the room.

I hold my honey and I store my bread.

the unknown, aged bags of trash
scattered along the back porch

the untouched half-gallon of milk in the fridge
accompanied with only leftover salami

the crushed lines of espresso beans on the coffeetable
the crushed lines of    on the bathroom sink

the recycled excuses of grandma’s sunday dinners
on a tuesday

or the incessant trips to the hardware store,
how many lightbulbs need attendance each week?

i want to read the narratives of the thoughts
of someone enamored with distraction.

do they go anywhere?

These days, the unattended icebox
of Gaia’s daughter, Sky, flickers
on—
(a layer of cold crystals decorate the grass)
after her nightly
shade-shows:
turqouise to that cherry cotton-candy hue
to the mixed lavender & orange
like the Trix yogurt you used to eat at lunch.

When the color show is over
and the light returns,
Sky sighs—
Blonde powder does the flying tango.
It swims from the Ragweeds, small yellow
Tornados swarm the fields,
Dance above the rivers,
Among the highways.

Up the nostrils
of the rows and rows of people,
always moving on the earth.
They
begin to sneeze. Gasp.
Pinch their foreheads in disgust.
Curse at the Ragweeds they were given
and destroy.

We have to relate to everything and
We bond in our destruction.

seven years young, always sharing a still smile.
You find him decked out and drowning in choir robes, with
Golden curls placed gently on a hammered head.


This boy plays piano in a dead sanctuary
Following familial rule,
until he let it all go.

the boy began playing music unwritten,
off hymnal sheets
Harmonious melodies stream from dancing fingertips,
Intrinsically clearing the once-cloudy air with vivacious voodoo.

The boy’s fingers groove up and down the piano,
His touch graces ivory keys and
His foot performs a rhythmic pedal-pressing tango.
He calls the audience: everywhere, eyes ignite like flame:
A communal headturn towards the piano.

They need more.
They crave it.

All the sanctuary people rise from the seats,
Abandon their pews, they enclose this boy.
No means to scare him, they want to experience.
The audience turns their ears towards the piano’s emissions,  

Emanating from within

Inhaling soundwaves—
Intoxicatingly sweet.
They absorb his notes into every pore of their skin,
Fueling their bodies with musical nutrients.
Electric jolts flow right into the room’s extremities.
They let down their hair and begin to dance.

Until a brief noise, distinctive throat-clearing, came through the speakers;
Heads shifted to the podium, only to see their ticked-off pastor,
Smirking and waving sarcastically.

Discipline.

The congregation stumbled back to their seats.
The boy stopped playing.
Ending the enchantment, killing the sanctuary.

Air again filled with ‘God’s voice’
through the mouth of the speaker.

A speaker who just wanted attention.
The boy slipped out of the piano seat, out the church’s doors.

You want to chase after him, give him a ride
Where could the boy be going in the middle of the storm?



The pastor’s prodigal son.

Familial negligence in elementary years,

Driving through road-blocks,




Uncertainty.



Dropping the pizza,

Often irrational,
   bad,

Camel spiders and snakes,

Loss of control,

Peeing your pants,





Bone-chilling



Beer eliminates fear.



Corrupt leaders and politics,

the unknown, the dangerous;



a basic emotion,
a defense mechanism,
a mentality,
protective,
a hindrance,
a motivator,





extremely complex, yet so basic.

Modern humanist social anxieties.
so strong that it stops actions, freezes situational progress.
does not allow the entity to make moves in harm's way.

provocative for offensive moves,
the extra push of adrenaline enabling someone to lift a car to save another.


Complex sentient beings empathize the fear in others, and project it onto others.


The fear of compromised freedom can be the catalyst to an organized protest of a handful or thousands of people against a potential or occurring government action.


A threat.

Paralyze--ation.

A jolt of the heart.



Fear is like love, linked to love, with its severe stress and anxiety




What if you turned fear into love?