We sat untroubled
in the back yard
a warm dusk
the heat from the sun
radiating upward from
the cement patio
it felt so good
being with him
there - one on one
like a divine consultation
at the end of the day
father and son
but we couldn’t get past
the small things
he inhaled and swallowed
his bourbon on the rocks
washing away his fears
his hand waved
shouting, “hello!”
to the woman next door
then whispering under
his breath -
“you ******* - you,”
his twisted stare grabbed
me with his fire
I froze and deliberated
why he said things like this
at times like this
I couldn’t fix
such a gorgeous evening
that was damaged now
a ball of fire setting low
into the trees
he blamed the war
and grumbled
about his absent father
and his neglected childhood
so unforgiving and foul
puking his guts
on the neighbor and
the warm cement
goring anyone
who stepped into his range
I stared into the woods
while the screen door
squealed like a pig
abandoned on the square
avoiding the horns
of an angry bull.

these endless words
from worldly limbs  
breathe after
I die

hospice is the admission
they bring morphine
the good stuff
it’s six months or less
a one way flight
of hosts and guests
now numb from the blast
there’s no turning back
it’s inside out
and your hardwiring  
is resiliently engaged  
to move you forward
into this final encounter
day after day
drinking red tea
with spoons and cups
of Bonanno and Kubler-Ross  
their ghosts slurp
with you -
in your prepped room
your James Dean role
now flickers with light
on the ceiling
and you dream
a third stage bargain
that your son had been hit
instead of you
with this wicked sickness
then coolly counseled
by your wife
that it was no dream
just your mind  
regulating - processing
you slump there
dying there
in front of a familiar wall
where you once taped
painted olives green
and sipped scotch
with your books
at night.

you have your way
I have mine -
in the end

an exploited hand
threw a grenade
no pin -  
no spoon -
seconds seemed
like hours
in your mind
the steel growl
where mortals drift
above hollow ground
and out of the corner
of your sense
your lover’s destruction
flashed in the sand
the sins sprayed
all over the **** place
into their precious
eyes, blinding them
for a second -
then your offspring
waited and stared
into their cold
foiled TV dinners
quietly,
an empty table setting
and dust filled chair
clinked from the glass
spilling down
onto the carpet
then a muffled news
anchor whined
about crime
and revenues
in the background
with anxious
and forced discussion
“so….”
young eyes
became meaningless
under the glittering
shrapnel that flickered
across their screen
that night
like tinsel hanging
on the tree
and slits dripped
on soot red flesh
in this distant land
covered in sand
while little boys
and little girls
went about their
playful exchange
in this small
midwestern town
where everyone
thought they new
the score
behind the
door.

you reach for delight
in sour mash and shiraz
glassed up neat,
or with tight green leaves
that you lick sweet
on white paper,
in sparkling silver needles
that desire your blue pelt
and sweaty tempo runs
you reach –
for one helluva something
rather to shake you and
take you missing
from the throbbing pain
of stillness,
your fingers move firmly
downward on your
warm skintight thigh,
into a dark pleasurable
moist shadow,
beneath a sheer nylon bridge
where visceral odors rise
from your iris petal
textured juices confiscate
you - briefly
but joy can not be
stripped down
on any given sundown
you continue to search
for something,
for peace and delight
out there - the silence
always squints back
at the company
you keep.

at their best, there is gentleness in Humanity.
some understanding and, at times, acts of
courage
but all in all it is a mass, a glob that doesn't
have too much.
it is like a large animal deep in sleep and
almost nothing can awaken it.
when activated it's best at brutality,
selfishness, unjust judgments, ******.
what can we do with it, this Humanity?
nothing.
avoid the thing as much as possible.
treat it as you would anything poisonous, vicious
and mindless.
but be careful. it has enacted laws to protect
itself from you.
it can **** you without cause.
and to escape it you must be subtle.
few escape.
it's up to you to figure a plan.
I have met nobody who has escaped.
I have met some of the great and
famous but they have not escaped
for they are only great and famous within
Humanity.
I have not escaped
but I have not failed in trying again and
again.
before my death I hope to obtain my
life.
from blank gun silencer - 1994