I have shrunk to a thousand creases.
My dents have moulded
into sand and I'm built of nothing.
I might be brittle cascades
or a hollow dead star.
I might be a scattered ocean.
You would never know what I am.
The comets of my empty skies
emit radiation louder
than a thousand deaths.
Since a million years
I'm buried in vacuum.
My nerves are stapled
with rusted nails.
I've drowned into ocean floor,
I've been swallowed
by molten rocks.
This magma floating
within my veins,
is only your faded face
singeing me from inside.
You destructed me
and I've fallen.
I've fallen beyond grasp.
I've fallen empty,
into vacant depths of a screaming abyss.

As I gaze up at the sky,
I have a strange sense of deja vu.
I look beyond the moon,
and on my breath,
my soul lifts to stars
light years from here.
To cosmic worlds
of planets and galaxies.
Where blackholes breach
the edge of space and time.
Where asteroids as large as planets
travel through the Milky Way.
Occasionally,
colliding,
leaving clouds of
interstellar dust behind
in their wake.
I breathe in,
then out,
and my soul returns
on an even breath,
leaving me with just
a brief taste
of the world
from which I came.

The night of
the harvest moon
was the night
I fell for you.
You held me,
kissed me,
and whispered
you loved me.
You pulled
me close,
and gently
brushed my lips.
You whispered,
"Are you ready"?
"Yes"
I whispered back.
You kissed me,
and I let you in.

Amber was an atheist,
she thought the world was dumb as hell.
Britney was a botanist,
who had a fertilizer smell.
Candice was a coroner,
a scary passion for the stiffs.
Diana was a drummer chick,
that knew a few guitar riffs.

Evelyn was evil, man,
all leather suits and chains and whips.
Farrah was a therapist,
got in my brain with swinging hips.
Greta was a gunslinger,
she'd give most anything a shot.
Hannah was a homebody-
shy as hell, but twice as hot.

Iris was an Ivy Leaguer,
thought I was a total fool.
Janice was a juggler,
who liked to play with power tools.
Kimmy taught karate,
who dated me just for the kicks.
Louise was a lyricist,
who wrote about how guys were *****.

Marilyn was mostly mean,
she liked to fight and then make up.
Nancy was so negative,
I had no choice but to break up.
Opal was an occultist,
who liked to gossip with the dead.
Paula was a *******,
that made me pay to come to bed.

Queenie was inquisitive,
the questions were too much to bear.
Rosie was a recluse
who never shaved or brushed her hair.
Sidney was a sinful sort,
with toys and gadgets 'neath the bed.
Tina was a twisted chick,
with thirteen voices in her head.

Ursula was uber-cool,
always on the latest trends.
Vicky was on Vicodin,
and we all know how that one ends.
Wanda was a wanderer,
that left to join a circus troupe.
Xena the exhibitionist
liked to do it on the stoop.

Yolanda was young and fine,
and nearly cost me everything.
Zoey was a Zombie fan,
she got hot when he would sing.
I'd like to say I've settled down,
but since the alphabet is done,
I'm gonna met an Ann or Anita,
and give it all another run.

Like water, like flowing rivulets,
notes fly from fingers fast on frets.
Slippery sinuous shimmering tones
(complemented by brash bluesy Bones).
Like storm’s thunder and lightning a chord
brings the sky to us on earth—
or is it that we fly , then die until the rebirth
in gentle reverb of a note two octaves higher?
Strange how rain coexists with fire.
Drench us in the cascade born from your desire.

[These are quotes taken from a New York Magazine article around 10 years ago. They are all from firefighters]

"doing funerals....getting the bunting, hanging the bunting...step by step...

When it became a myth, the whole event...

people were terrified, crapping their pants...a woman in the lobby...no legs...her face...like someone took it off with a saw.

Why did I survive?

...None of 'em were ever found. Not even a tool.

I didn't see victims. They were dust... When the wind blew, you couldn't grab them.

long spears of glass...Huge panels turned into shards...a piece of window, a small piece....It's right here in my hands now.

...can't look at a plane landing"

1.
We’ll negotiate with our friends and threaten our enemies.
If our friends can’t negotiate nicely,
we’ll threaten them.
We’ll negotiate with our enemies,
once they’re ground into the dirt.
We’re honest brokers, buying low and selling high.
Life is a gamble; make sure you’ve got collateral to damage.

2.
Abraham sacrificed his sons for God—
Rows and rows of them, in airplane bellies,
boxed and wrapped.
God let him have Isaac,
but inflation drove up the price of God’s love.
No more token sacrifices accepted--only real sons now.

3.
Adam will take back the Garden of Eden,
No flaming swords will stop him.
A fig leaf covers his nakedness.
Why aren’t Cain and Abel getting along?

4.
Blessed are the poor in spirit;
they don’t need our handouts.
The meek will inherit the lowlands.
Let them build an ark when the rains come.
Suffer, little children.

5.
Like the fruit fly, we multiply.
Our swarm will cover the earth and feed on its ripeness.
Eat it down to the pit.
We came 5,000 years ago
and stayed just long enough to enjoy the fruits of God’s labors.
We’ll be reborn as angels stuck with pins in God’s collection.