she didn’t want me to go
not again
not this time
lay with me she begged
and I’d smile
and say
but I have to
I have to
you know I do
and she would nod
in agreement
but then ask me to stay again
and I’d smile even bigger this time
and kiss her on her fragile lips
and feel in her breath
how badly she wanted me
to stay
and then I would stay
for another half hour
or so
and then I’d tell her
that I really needed to go
but I could tell that
she didn’t want me to go
ever again

Is what I am doing the plight of my existence?
She asked me

Sitting on her lap
I notice the beer on my breath
Heating my mouth like a furnace

In giving answers I always feel like
A hundred Schizophrenic Walt Whitmans
Scrawling math problems on walls
With bits of coal
And we keep saying to ourselves
“But I am a ******* poet”

And what I wanted to say was
Probably
Or what are you doing exactly
Or if you are truly honest with yourself you won’t be

Here is how to truly be honest
It will feel like words in the mouth of a toddler
Learning how to speak to its mother
And you just keep saying, “Yeah” and “Wow”

Only this time
What you’re hearing makes sense
And you turn white
And you want to puke

It is the secret things we say to ourselves
Like
After my mother almost successfully killed herself
Well enough to be gone forever
I now secretly bank on my dad dying soon
So my aunt can take my brother and sister
And I will no longer feel responsible for anyone

Walking away
And feeling good about it are two different things

There is plight in our existence
In the monotony
In the repetition of sorrow
But that feeling fades
the fear of being alone
And unloved
and lost
and whatever

Like being in a nightmare
They all go away
As soon as someone touches you

Now be honest about what makes you happy
Do that
Do it well
Make others happy with it

“And if it ends in flames
At least we’ll be warmed by the fire”
She said

And to be honest
I don’t remember what I really said

I would like to
go to that place
where you are
in the sun, where
we are maybe like souls
without bodies
stolen in the wind

My body is not
a wonderland.

there is nothing
sultry about
A Cold.

'Come hither' with a
red nose?
Oh Baby...

Commentary on
Modern Music,
nearly halted by
an almost snot rocket...
Authority tempered
with a rasp.

"Did you know you could
DIE if you hold in a sneeze?"
9 year old anecdotal prophet's
looming outline, right up close to
my face.

messy  half-dreams under the
futile winter-hat Reality Shield in the
backseat of  Homeward bound
Economy Wheel Gathering.

**** Man Voice to
telemarketers.

No sir, that's Mrs. White.

Upon a mountain in some older days
there lived an aging dragon
He lived in a cave so near yet so far
that if could not be reached by wagon.
Now, the dragon guarded something so special
it was not yet known to you or me
So many before tried to find it
and none had succeeded, but that didn't
stop ol' Mack McGhee.
Ol' Mack was no thing of beauty
but he was strong in his middle age
He had a personality so greedy and cocky
that he really had no personal gauge.
He wanted what the dragon hid
though what it was, he did not know
So one fine day he set out on a journey
no preparations--he just wanted to go.
Well the first day was fine and so was the next
but on the third, he began to tire
So ol' Mack sat down in the dust and heat
and he made himself a fire.
He soon fell asleep under a sea of stars
seeing as the following day, he had to walk more
He'd get to the dragon, he knew he would
even though the walk was becoming a bore.
The next day he awoke to the blazing sun
burning his ugly face
So he arose and began to walk,
looking for a shaded place.
Ol' Mack pressed through the desert
and soon he came to the mountain
There was shade, it was an oasis
there was even water bubbling in a natural fountain.
He wondered if this was it,
"Is this what the dragon is hiding?
If this is it, it was far too easy.
My time I was certainly biding."
He decided it wasn't enough,
he'd have to climb to the top to find
the treasure that the dragon was hoarding
the very thing he couldn't keep from his mind.
So he climbed and he climbed for hours
and finally he reached the cave
"Oh, good," he thought, "I can finally rest.
I feel like I've been climbing for days."
"WHO GOES THERE?" boomed the dragon
"It is I," answered Mack, "I've come to get your treasure!"
"The thing that I guard is behind that rock," said the dragon,
"I'm not sure it's treasure by your measure."
"I'm sure it is," said Mack
and he ran behind the rock
What there he saw was so simple and plain
that it came as quite a shock.
Behind the rock on the wall of the cave
was the phrase "Be impeccable with your word."
"That's it?!" exclaimed Mack, "there has to be more.
I came all the way just for that? This is absurd."
"That it may be," said the dragon, old and wise
"but it's a phrase to be held true by sinners.
And now, because you are one of them,
I must eat you for dinner."
And he did.

our goodbyes
are becoming more difficult.
for each day, i discover new crinkles
under your eyes or
how your voice sounds like sugar & cream stirred in coffee
when you smile.
so when i kiss you goodbye,
i’m kissing goodbye all of you.
(your body. your soul. my sea.)
i’m kissing goodbye the love that i have planted in you,
my love will grow until vines intertwine in your strands.
saying goodbye to you has never been
easy.
but why is it so hard now?

I snuck into your room last night
You always leave the doors unlocked and those lights aren’t fooling anyone
The floorboards creaked with cloudy memories and I feared I’d wake you
But your mind was buried so deeply in darkness the sky could not stir you

I laid with you in silence last night
Your bones whimpered and rattled like the bitter cold wind against the windows
The ice must have certainly entered through those tiny cracks in the glass, in your shell
Crystals fell softly from the ceiling and landed upon your cheeks

I took myself away from you last night
Peeled back your eyelids gently and wiped out the cloudiness I’d left there
Soft cotton picked up the old traces left on your skin, your fingertips; under your nails
Your mouth I traced with honey and perfumes; I placed young crickets under your pillow

I left you last night
Though you walked me to the door and watched me drive away, you never once saw me
You must have been dreaming that I was merely visiting; a guest, unaware
Blind to the mirror you dressed yourself in, and adorned in the “all along”

You always were a light sleeper.

Sitting in class, looking around,
I feel a little man climbing up my face by hair.
He has on tiny sharp shoes
And they dig into my skin
I wince as he clambers up my cheek
He rests only for a moment
Thinking.
He gets fistfuls of my eyelashes
Tugs & tugs & tugs
I feel the weight of him &
My eye closes gratefully
He moves to the other
Making a mirror action
And it's all gone from there
Now he dances in my dream
He might have climbed
Into my ear while I wasn’t looking

Secret inspirations on wonder nights
that come on the wings of wet winds,
moments that tiptoe across the gulf
of the worlds, I keep them deposited,
safe in your soul; When you smile,
you bring hundred hidden meanings
to life; You are my journal: in you I
hold my fondest fjords and rarest
gorges zealously concealed from the
prying eyes of life and time; Empty
flower vase that brings a silent corner
alive in shades of azul, dream-song
of the lone twig romancing the moon
in waving waters of the silent lake,
distant star that lights smiling eyes,
invisible companion on sacred quests,
hope of the cactus in barren deserts,
Señora, without you, I am a poet
orphaned in the loss of his journal.