for living creatures have to eat
breaks  my heart to see a young gazelle
go down her throat surrounded by razor lion teeth
or a squirrel      scurrying
in the middle of the road hearing destiny roar down on him
not knowing which way to turn
that crunch is part of life
hard distasteful but natural
and,  still nature has that giving side ,
the acorns from oaks
the prairie grass
so it is not all bleak,
just chance again,
someone wins the lottery every week
some get killed in cars,  by teeth get eaten
or become food for the insects,
or bar fights or  by a lion or tire;
and some make love like rabbits in the sun and have
wild onions in abundance and comfortable burrows
strong tree limb nests
to sleep in unworried it seems,
or are they?

love her oohs and ahs
music to my ears
her vociferousness
we parlayed and drank several hours away
laughed and smoked a blunt
and her hand was right there
I was expecting her to pull it away
when I reached out and touched it
she was a lady but
let me grasp her
and she was quite a lady
my ears are ringing

Being the black sheep of the family
Is all well and good until winter comes.
The grass is frozen, food is scarce
And those stomachs don't stop rumbling,
Ever wailing to be appeased,
Unaware and uncaring to the icy conditions.
They're not monsters, no.
They huddle together for warmth;
Snow dusting their coarse wool
As they stand, determined to make it through the cold.
But their stomachs scream like dying beasts,
And the ache is so prevalent in their empty bellies.
No fat to chew on, time passes by so slowly,
And that black sheep is starting to look like the odd one out.
It doesn't look like food,
But it does seem just enough like an other
To smother any guilt that may linger
At the bottom of a recently-assuaged hunger.
They're not monsters, no,
Because the black sheep was never one of them.

satin sheets lil candies champagne
dimmed lights
candles flickering
crescent moon in the window
and ten dollars left
in my budget
and she is not here
I shaved my whiskers
bought expensive cologne
trimmed my forest
combed my hair
awaited her to knock
it never came
so
I guess that ****** site was bogus
let me try another

My eyes looked up at yours before
Retreating back to the floor
My chin pulled up by your magnetic touch
I sure hope this is just a crush.

Are you coming to me
Or am I coming to you?

You sauntered over and leaned in close.

I could feel the syrup drip from my lips
And I knew you'd sip while you gripped my hips
Eyes gently closed
Noses softly brushed
Mouths slightly parted
Lips quickly touched
Cheeks brightly flushed
This was all too rushed

If we were to do this again
Maybe I would've leaned back in
Maybe you would've gone right in
Maybe we would've savored the taste
Of the syrup that dripped from my lips