you have to be careful
what you put in your pomes
and how you word your critiques

some poets are unique
and their retorts
are silenced

like their critics.

play me an air
   a bluebird lament
something meant for the breathing
  to remember

  all i want to hear
is a soft melody
  sad as the winter
still on the wind

     let your bow waltz
on the strings of my heart
     let the sound
  of your fiddle
set sail

play me an air
   like the bluebird did
     while i dance
  with the snow
in my hair.

There's something about
that new weatherlady

in her form-fitting dress
not too short or so long

she's got that Kardashian
thang going on

******* like cumuli

waiting on a strong
Southern breeze
to stir up a warm front.

:)

there's a picture on a shelf
of a former self

stuck between two stacks of books
looking for all the world
like myself

with no one else beside me
somewhere on a highway
going my way

hair and sand in the wind
sun in my eyes

looking free.

everyone's talking
about freedom of speech

as if it should come at no cost
like something you teach

it's never been that way
and it never will be

we need to be reminded
of what it means to be free.

a pentagon study
determined that putin
is an anti-social control freak
kind of vermin

(really? this required a genius
kind of keenness? really?)

darpa should stick to cool things
like the internet and invisibility cloaks
and drones armed with pork parts


a rodina rodent in the grain
needs spankin'
with more than just sanctions

cuz knocking out their incisors
doesn't make them any nicer

- a rat with no teeth
is still a rat.

home in the mirror
appearing nearer

but i'm not driving
or even trying
to turn around

i'm burning down

bridges behind me
all I can see

over my shoulder
looking for closure

the colder and closer
i get to the sea.