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r Aug 2014
two moons, but still
the night is dark-
wild dogs bark at a sky
that I don't understand

there's a tent revival
down by the river-
preacher duane says the light
from the reflection
will be good for the soul

I don't want to go, momma
I don't want to go

two moons are confusing
though the sound is soothing
as it shines through my radio

wild dogs are barking-
my head is swimming-
at the river they're gathering-
and the people are singing-
and the preacher is praying-
and the light is reflecting-

I don't want to go, momma
I don't want to go

I see two moons,
momma...

two moons.

r ~ 8/27/14
\¥/\
  |     O o
/ \
r Aug 2014
tinted postcards
from Vienna-
Munich oils on canvas-
a self portrait
on a stacked-stone bridge-

rejected, the painter painted
yellow stars-broken glass
Judenstern and Kristallnacht

no starry night,
no van Gogh-
der Führer was no master,
Mein Kampf no masterpiece.

r ~ 8/25/14
\¥/\
  |     Night of broken glass
/ \
r Aug 2014
she wore a soft white sundress
·weathered light cotton·
and when she stood just right
-in the August sun-
I could see clear through to Venus.

r ~ 8/24/14
\¥/\
|   diaphanous
/ \
r Aug 2014
Ain't no reason
or particular season
to the rhyme...
but my head is heavy-
and my heart is rotten
to the core.

There's holes in my pages
where there once were words-
the book worms got 'em
and left me empty...

I asked ***** Joe for a light,
but his flint wore out
on the road into Fallujah.
Now he's rotten to the corps-
he can't hear us anymore...
a secret, silent sentry.

r ~ 8/22/14
\¥/\
|    Fallujah
/ \
r Aug 2014
She sews..her needle hot
Stitching her words
Into my thoughts

Repairing a tear
Here and there

A knot drawn tight
Nimble and quick
Thimble silver
Her verse sharp

A rip in the heart
Stitched in time
To stop the flow

My lips sealed
with silken gold
Threading gently
Into the night.

r ~ 8/21/14
\¥/\
  |      
/ \
r Aug 2014
stoic, solid
stolid and bolder
made colder the soldier-
death's hand on his shoulder
and eyes the color
of green flies.

r ~ 8/19/14
\¥/\
  |      
/ \
r Aug 2014
a crumpled milk carton
discarded...fallen
in the gutter, another
black and white photograph

a tooth fairy smile-
something missing,..

a coldness
from the shuttered window
in the shadows
of a quiet day
...Xavier doesn't play here anymore.

r ~ 8/17/14
\¥/\
|   missing
/ \
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