the sharpening steel
slid across blackened blade
in rhythm like rapid
even breaths
in the dark
leaving a thread
of gleaming silk
at its edge
new, polished, perfect
the only aspect
of a life detested
this had
purpose and value
making order of chaos
erasing those
imperfections too minor
for the eye to find,
work day assaults
from the sinews
of soft animal flesh
Blood, death' s smell
ever sating nostrils
and under nails
though scrubbed white
at closing time.

What's the sound a rain drop makes
When it oozes from cracked plaster,
Splashing to wood at my floor
Wetting the paper and last week's

Now mostly finished crossword,
Distracting from latest distraction
Of some unread lines written
To marry ideas too absurd -

Clocks that can run backward, or
Knowing just when and where
In infinity one should stare
To see a shooting star soar

Pen bleeds from neat squares,
But with days left to dry
I could give it another try
Or perhaps use it now to
Sop up a puddle by the chair,

Nor will newest words ever be heard
I should listen to life that matters
These drips of dreams
Are drowned in inky water,
Sodden pages leave thoughts too blurred

It's prime time...
Let us now
Lower heads and bow,
Sing hymns to the responsive
Drive train of the latest model,
Ignore a "fasten seat belt" chime
Get on with real business,
Speeding mountain curves
In seats of Corinthian leather
(Professional driver
On closed course)
Of course the fine print
Didn't make it
To the big picture,
Seven twenty P HD
How repulsive!
To lay wreaths, handmade signs
Bows and teddy bears
In loving memory of the lost
As if it really matters
That a pizza delivery man,
Loving father of two,
His Corolla ripped to tatters,
Sacrificed a life to bring pie
In a half hour or less.

It's prime time...
Let us now
Lower heads and bow,
Sing hymns to the responsive
Drive train of the latest model,
Ignore a "fasten seat belt" chime
Get on with real business,
Speeding mountain curves
In seats of Corinthian leather
(Professional driver
On closed course)
Of course the fine print
Didn't make it
To the big picture
How repulsive!
To lay wreaths, handmade signs
In loving memory of the lost
As if it really matters
That a pizza delivery man,
Loving father of two,
His Corolla ripped to tatters,
Sacrificed a life to bring pie
In a half hour or less.

I see her lips curl in grimace
A purulence of old meat
Put off too many tomorrows
Air touched disinfected, rescented
An insult in time forgotten.  

Suddenly recalled with that face
Appearing amidst the street
Girlish want of it since disposed,  
Dead flesh wafts again, decayed, fetid
Memories of it since rotten
We look away and walk on

I learned the hard way
Hurricane's eye is just a lull
The other half yet to make its day
But having long ignored the call

And there, in place, with no escape
Pulled covers neigh, made peace
With force then scouring the cape
Feeding fears and doubts to its beast

Finally finding sleep, sweet rest
Accepting bed rocking, wind's howls
Awakened when morning's sun rose to bless
That battered, still standing house

Oh what glory brings new days!
White sea from foam still full
Boiling excitement in each new wave!
Folly survived, a new man, more humble

In last eve's dream
We lay amid tall grass
Aside slow stream,
Share wine again
From one stemmed glass
Press lips, red stained
Ever avow our tomorrows.
But sun soon comes
Day demanding chores
Reverie must rest undone,
Mind mask its sorrows.
Pages once torn
And cast to wind
That new stories could form
Still flutter back in
To sweeten dark nights
Still real, my secrets