Every time I fell in love
    my heart became more fragile.
    The snow fell beautifully into
    love's yawning massive grave
    where all true loves go to die.
    Tears of my soul drip upon pages
    and I scratch my stories for you.
    Read and understand my journey.

Dad, you made me
doubt every part of me
flags at half mast
hope for the future
despair for my past
I'm in a hobo bag
chase a freight train
sleep out of the rain
can of beans my dinner
I miss your hard heart.

I don't really care that
  we break each other's hearts.
  We get drunk and call and get
  together.  I fall into your ******
  all over again and escape, reborn
  from the wound that never heals.

She lived in a big house with her sister.
  They'd been there all their lives in Glendale,
  Ohio.  She was a dear woman who thought of us
  as her own children.  They were spinster Aunts.

  She spoiled me. She had a wicked sense of humor.
  She seemed to understand men's weakness for lust.
  She always welcomed me, even with my ***** wife.
  My kids went to an orphanage. I went to a nuthouse.

  My shadow demands the thrill of fangs and claws.
  My beast going wild after a lifetime on the leash.
  I betray all my dear loves for carnal pleasures.
  I starve for youth's smell and taste and innocence.

After all it's just a hollow conceit.
Spill my guts upon a page to muster
some semblance of brilliance.
Shine a spotlight on me and gasp.
When all's said and done I'm the
lonely poet in the garret reading
pencil scratches on old envelopes
wishing they were in Anthologies.

perfect life torn asunder
death in rain and thunder
webs of cancer grow
in silence you never know
until you see in her eyes
the love of your life dies.

He was a kind, gentle man.
Soft spoken and in the time
of Aids and he told me he
was on death's path with
a disease unknown. I said
doctors will cure you.
Don't worry.
I never saw Rod alive again.

Alarms beep and buzz and click.
   Morphine. Blood Pressure. Heartbeat.
   We chant prayers and despairs.
   Sirens scream outside and choirs
   of saviors sing orders to ICU.
   A quiet hymn calls time of death.

I always run away from home
threatening to die alone a ******
in a ******* world of Hefner
in the heartland of the winter.
I want a tropical island with
mermaids beckoning my love.