I fall in love
With everyone I know
I give this heart away
Freely I give mind
Body and spirit to follow
You will know I am yours
When you hold me
Close and in your hands
When I let you take it—
In pack not in part
Wholly you have me
My undivided loyalty

We can make love
Or talk about you
Whatever you want to do
My time is yours
My body is too
To touch and soothe
Or to hold my tongue

I have worked the wrench’n’hammer
To the bolts’n’nails of rich men.
As their machines mutter’n’purr,
I am left with pennies to spare.

I have crawled under their buildin’s,
Face down as if I’m their grease’n’dirt,
To make their water flow on for them,
Havin to skip my meals for their dollar’s whim.

I hold my tongue like the best of’em
And fold my calloused hands politely.
When asked what I believe, I simply blink;
lettin’em think I’m a chain with’a missing link.

I drive 45 minutes home to an awful town
But it’s cheap an I can stand it.
I ****, shower an shave, an wait for my baby.
She’s a whip smart mind, my beautiful lady.

The days are similar an not so excitin’,
They grind on an on till the point is dull.
But with her around me, I’m a lucky man,
Cause she sees life not ‘as is’ but as ‘we can’.

One day we will stop all this dreamin’
An cast off to the winds whirlin’ whisper.
As it tells us where, when, an how, we will
Go on together an finally have our fill.

That fog was a wet sock,
Shoved deep into their mouths.
A cold day and a bundled heart.

They choked on wasted words,
Words that would have spilled out,
Had the sun warmed their lips.

The frosted park of leafless trees
Sang silence in a tune too quiet.
They walked, feeling every stone unturned.

The simple scarf she wore,
Just a pretty noose around her nape;
He would have kissed her there if he knew the knots.

His gloved hand was a fortress,
Tucked and tightly hoarding heat.
She found no invitation at that leather gate.

As they walked in the mundane,
Surrounded by winter’s mystery,
They both longed to run back and kiss with a summer sunset.

The rain was my mourning,
As it sifted through the misty air,
Landing with purpose
On cracked cement.

Leather boots splashing
In the wake of fallen tears.
As if god could learn empathy
And cry with his fleshy maumets.

His knuckles were knots.
Round, tight bunches,
Tied roughly, taught
By the lessons of men;
Who seem only to brutalize
The beauty of the body.

His heart was chiseled.
Stone in the stead of flesh,
Fixed to a function. Grounded,
Not in hope, but the kiln’s capture.
Heat, the blistering rage, resolved
In all the hand’s heartless work.

His mind was not his. Home;
A house of helplessness. Now,
The mental mutiny made know.
Year's of yearning for youth, only
To forfeit all faith of the future,
In exchange for hard truth.

If you want to sing your song of retribution,
Face me with your empty eyes wide open.
If you demand that I pay my full restitution,
I’ll give you my penance along with my sin.
I’m not here for your old, dead institution,
I don’t give a **** about the piety of your men.
If you really are the end-all-be-all resolution,
Then simply strike me down and take your win.

I think of your breath,
As it would have sounded,
Grasping sterilized air, as you emerged.

The way it sounded in a crib,
An infantile gasp,
Facedown, not yet knowing how to sleep.

Short disgruntled huffs,
Learning to say so much with no words
As you pouted in petty defiance.

Hard panting in the gym,
As the teacher pushed the limits
Of your strong slender core.

I think of your breath,
The way it trails behind
Each pitch-perfect-note you sing.

As your hands shook
And your words left you alone,
Grasping anxiously at wind.

Like a message in a capped bottle,
The way your lungs expand
With breath that contemplates tender words.

The thick sweet moisture
That filled our paper-thin distance,
The first time you shared your lips.

I think of your breath,
As you sleep, with thoughts
Wild and unknown to me.

The tickling whisper
Of secret air shared
As you invite me in.

The hard and heavy sigh
That looms in the living room
When your day beats you down.

A trumpet of surprised sound
As laughter congregates,
Demanding you to inhale.

I think of your breath,
How familiar it will be  
When we are bed bound with our air tanks.

If it is a dream
And not real,
Then I too,
Am a shadow
Behind closed eyes.
                                       But,
                                                   If it is reality
                                                   And true as the sun,
                                                   Then I too,
                                                   Am a glimmer
                                                   Behind eager eyes.

Is it blood or birth?
Too dark to tell.
Is it heathenism or hope?
Too dark to tell.
Is it faith or freedom?
Too dark to tell.

The night is now
Too dark to tell.
In the trenches, we dig
Our graves of friendship.

I was a bigot,
My body wrapped in red and white,
With blue eyes on stardom.

I was a saint,
Satan's servant with a Bible,
A man of God's war crimes.

I was a fundamentalist,
Funding mental lists of hate
With money stolen from the poor.

I was a colonist,
Carving out sacred land
For the benefit of my white body.

I was a misogynist,
Marking my territory like a dog,
******* on the other’s freedom.

I was an American,
A white straight man,
A brutal prodigy of the patriarchy.

I was
As he was,
A lineage that will be broken.

”I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.”
To a child who only knows life
And distant lessons of death.
A boy learning to builds walls
Out of plastic bricks—
Defending against feelings.

”I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.”
To the one who falls asleep
Next to the voiceless dog
As it's quiet breath whispers
Instinct and unknowing—
Young ears open to all things.

”I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.”
To the son who knows no difference.
Climbing to the tendriled top
Of his trusted tree friend.
Swaying in what was real—
Falling and the warm Midwest wind.

The air gave us away,
Thin and frigid.
Motionless,
We sat,
Silent.
Behind our eyes,
The chaos,
Watered
Down,
Made seeing
Each other, impossible.

It was a whiskey night—
All nights were at this point.
It was the closest thing
He could bring to his lips
That even remotely felt like her.

As the sky turned from pink to black,
So did his thoughts.
As he drained the last glass,
He chased her into his dreams.

As the dust settled on the dim-lit floor,
So did the bodies of two.

Neither side saught out a victory,
Both were content in just knowing.

As the last splinter of sunlight faded,
Sweat joined with the dust on the floor.

Movements and minds were molded,
As pieces of passion collided Into place.

The sun will be gone till Friday,
At least that’s what I was told.

The houses will be gone forever,
at least that’s what I’ve seen.

As a deep red tint blankets the west
And ash flakes litter the cities,

The prayers are prayed in vain,
At least that’s what I fear.

A year that feels like ten.

A never ending road of broken glass.

With shredded feet and calloused progress,

We march on.

He pressed his nose up to a mirror—
No matter how close he got,
He still only saw who he could be.

He peered into a magnifying glass—
Looking longingly at his hands,
He still only saw who he wasn't holding.

He stood naked in the doorway.
Night was dark enough to bite.

He stood alone for a moment.
Right then, his memories came to fight.

He stood with an empty bottle.
Lights out on him forever, goodnight.

I will be there,
As love precedes.

Though, I will impede—

As hate recedes,
I will be there.

A day away from you,
Runs on forever.

With no shared laughs,
From the one who truly knows me.

With no warm air,
From the one whom I share.

A day away from you,
Will always call me home.

I long for that part of each day,
When I die slowly on the cushioned couch.
After work, after a day of giving a ****.
You and I will sit together.
Oh, Ambivalence, my clingy friend.

If I could listen to my body

I would lose my mind


My heart would beat faster



My eyes would grow wild




My hands would be yours

Tobacco and timidity
Silence and serenity
Whiskey and sublimity

—Forgotten pain

A straight-back chair
A cool breeze
A warm summer night

In total,
I think I know nothing
                           Of you.
In part,
I think I know all
                  Of you.
Together,
I think is where I’ll start
                          With you.

I will embark
To share, in part,
The wonder of the moon.

Their dark side there
And just as fair,
Is forgotten in their light.  

Their shining face
Holds the gaze
Of wanderers alike.

But as for me,
I dare to see,
The beauty of their dark side.

Bind me tightly
Blind me slightly


Do me right
Do me right

                                                  A void in my heart
                                                  Avoiding my heart

Nicotine in the bloodstream
And nothing in the heart.
Hands holding tight on this journal,
We’re light years apart.

I’ve stapled together old words about you
And I’m about to burn them all.
I’ll rub the coals on the sides of my house,
And watch for you as the timbers fall.

When it is just me and motionless memories
I’ll remember that forgotten day.
The one that fleets and flies bye,
When smoke signals couldn’t keep you away.

So cheers,
to the old and the new,
The broken and the blue,
The lonely and the few.
Cheers to you.