Until today
I could not see you
too afraid to look in a mirror
Skin loose
Jaw tight, a motar grinding teeth

A confused looking man,
already?
Are you ready?

Adrift, we alive are dizzy, mad, confused, or blank.

Stroking our nostril hair,
portraying different parts,
one a banker, a father, an assassin
Once even a sort of Irish troll, slash, Quasimodo,
do you regret the metaphor?

How it happened...

akin to looking back
And thinking nothing,
black on black

Whiteshade in light
Static void (smiling cow).

Who was chaufeured around Paris in that film anyway?

That girl, you know, the one who won't wear shoes
Or socks

She plays in several scenarios,
once a mother, a nurse, a nun on the run,
a chemist, a voluptuous ventriloquist,
pregnant, humming, doing the dishes, going to church,
staying up late to feed the cats

can you imagine

playing all those lifetimes on a raft
an inventive vehicle wouldn't you say?

I'm a nobody
Arranging words so they align with thoughts
Uneven and impure

These poems are like living on snack food

What I want to say is,
half of me is out the door

Living with the ants.