the musician on stage in front of a

rack of shoes looks like you,
although it may be

the fog of the free beer.
It smells like the 70s and even though I
never experienced it firsthand,

the red velvet pants on the rack next to me
take me back in time.
Surrounded by a trio of girls in striped shirts –
the three blind mice –
**** on lollipops
and there are too many jean jackets to count.

I can’t stop thinking about my arms around your neck
on a park bench

let’s go to Niagara Falls, or Pompeii

there are some soaps in the shape of fingers at the store next door
and I can wrap them around your arms
while we listen to Born Ruffians
and they’ll sing:

It ***** when you find someone
but they don’t find you.

In the wee hours
as the crickets chirp
and frogs and owls converse
a forest symphony
outside my window

I am reminded why I came here
not so long ago
for the glory of the Milky Way
the Moon and all the stars

as far away from light pollution
as we could have come
for the river
for the woods
for the quiet

And on those days when I would trade
our winters for a song
I think of all the years it took
to bring me to this place

I walk the woods in gratitude
for all our many gifts
and think
perhaps
the owls feel the same

patience and desire
eyes on the prize
even though it seemed lost
true gold lies deep in the glow of those hazel eyes

a tale that threatened with tears
and the dread of heartfelt slips
veers towards the tessellation of your body
head-to-toe with my lips

overwhelmed by fears of turbo-charged love
and at which stops this train may be calling
yet trepidation is drowned by exhilaration
as this new adventure is dawning

hips on hips and longful gazes
hearts singing unheard notes
your hand in mine, side by side
we sail forth on our choice of cupid's boats

It was time for celebration
Thanksgiving weekend was now here
A time for food and football
A time for love and prayer

In front of old Gianni's
The parade was marching by
But, way back in the alley
Someone was singing to the sky

The Blues man sat and pondered
As he sometimes chose to do
Of his songs and of his music
That really reached too few

The parade was full of bluster
High School Bands and all that stuff
While out back of Old Gianni's
The Blues man had it rough

But, he sang songs of Thanksgiving
To the Lord, and to the sky
He was praising all worlds beings
Though no body did pass by

He sang "Glory, Glory, Glory"
He sang "Allehlujah " too
Even though he sat with no one
The Blues man wasn't blue

Back door opened slowly
As the parade was winding down
People from The Street
Were slowly coming round

The Blues man didn't notice
Singing on without a break
Singing songs of praise and glory
With just the sounds that he could make

Then all at once he looked out
Saw the quickly gathered throng
He changed what he was playing
And he broke into a song

The Blues man started Christmas
Singing of a Christmas Tree
And of a long ago soft Silent Night
And the entire show was free

He didn't sing of presents
He didn't sing of our excess
He sang Christmas Hymns of long ago
When we all gave thanks for less

The Blues man had his medcin'
Drank a bit, and sang some more
Then he started slowing down
When she came out from her back door

The woman with the used book place
Stood silent, listening with this cast
Of The Street owners and people
On who life had given up so fast

She walked up to The Blues man
Through the crowd to where he was
And she started singing with him
Which made the Blues man pause

He knew he'd heard this voice before
Back when people knew his name
It was older and some shaky
But, the voice it was the same

The woman looked down at him
Gave a smile, shed a tear
Then she said "It's me dad"
"It's no dream...I am here"

The Blues man kept on playing
For two hours more or so
When the weather, not the people
Put an end to this mans show

Another past Thanksgiving
Was still playing in his mind
But, The Blues man and his daughter
Had a life they had to find

No one heard her say it
Just The Blues man, as he sang
This was the start of a new story
As bells of Thanksgiving loudly rang

Untitled, and untethered
Floating, and fleeting
Sensational, and seething
anticipating, and articulating
communicating expression  
exceptional, and enduring
invention is my game
characters with stage names
dialogue, and dialect
inspire my intellect
la, la, lah-- la, la, la

Shakespeare, Kafka, Sappho please
help me with my writing needs
allow me to bring my characters to life
perhaps they'll drink some *** with wives
let them sing, and let them dance
allow them to play games of chance
mystery with history
mixing in a little misery
la,la, lah, la-la-la

let them bounce off every page
dancing merrily across the stage...
Oh, and let them love the music too
let them sing to me n' you
words of joy
words of passion
while they wear the latest fashion

Oh, and please...
I'm on my knees
let me earn a decent wage

I need to make sure to build a stage

I'll give them crowns with diamond gems
singing songs for all of them
Shakespeare, Kafka, Sappho please
inspire me with my writing needs
*la,la,lah-la-la- lah--

Leora,
when you sing,


God comes and listens.



And your father,
red headed, 

red bearded,
full of joy and 

loving,
tender pride,
visits us.



Where he lives now,


in the heaven neighborhood of 

my own parents,
singing this good 

is still special.
Only humans made into angels

 know how to make those sounds.

Leora,


when you sing,


the clouds dance 

above us,


and joy, pride,
nachus,


is all we feel.

Never did I think I'd be the girl for you.
From my odd blonde curls to the wiggle of my nose,
Never did I believe I could be loved so deeply.
And from your beautiful green eyes and deep brown hair
I love you even more when you just stare
At me so deeply I can feel you looking into my soul
I can't keep things from you,
When you look I cant control
My lips from smiling or my heart from singing
My dear I'll love you
Until I take my final breath

She always seemed so synchronized,
To the thoughts that crossed his brain.

Picking up her feet to dance,
To distract him from the pain.

She kissed his worried temples,
Wiped his tears away like rain.

All the while still syncing with the
Thoughts inside his brain.

He wondered why she danced there,
And focused on his thought's.

"Maiden don't you think that there
is something you've forgot?

You spend worry on my brain waves,
you dance around and sing.
But don't you forget fair maiden,
that your thoughts can also ring."

She stood a while and faced him,
and focused on her thoughts.

"No my dear it's clear that you
are something I am not.

Your thoughts they never linger,
they come and then they go

And unlike me the bad ones
never stay and never grow

So yes, I'll dance about you,
and I'll kiss your temples pink.

And dance about you daily,
just to hear the thought's you think."

(i.r.)

singing in front of strangers
terrifies me to no end, I battle
my runaway heartbeats as they
fly and thud against my glass
chest; I feel the blood flush
hot and livid through my
limbs & search for cool
pillow sides to chill my
cheeks, wondering why the
only sounds I make
whine, how the mind can be
infinitely stronger than the
body how fear can run
through programmed behavior
why telling myself "you wont die"
is never enough to quell my
aching nerves—phobia is the
unswallowable lump in my throat,
the inexplainable fight or flight, the
"no" whispered in every language to
my gullible muscles—one day I will
sever the fear at its root and enjoy
the fruits of my own liberation.