She wasn't there when I arrived,
but I hugged her at St Paul's
where patron saints pay to see the crypt
and pidgeons relieve themselves for free

She wasn't there when I left
tho we did hold hands
and stroll along the Thames
even shared a laugh in some famous gallery

Then she was gone

Don't think she likes my verses much
She has her Phd now
afterall
but I remember warmly
red ribboned pigtails
and crumpet mix
dripping

Faithful and Fruit to these Condiments bind
And soon will you find her Impatient Face
Yet, out of her Love's Shivered Interest, mind
Will keep her Wrist till satisfied your Place
As long as these Fishes persistent, bite
The very Saying most Lovers research
To you, an Arm's Open Wound set, despite
Drug-Crazed Pidgeons in concert to Feed, perch
This is why she has to keep her Silence
Till she finds your Earth to hold and adore
That very Tan, burnt to ample Conscience
Will inspire her Shells for more and more.
When such Fire quells, and Waters recede
Her Brow on your Chest; Your Arm's Brace repeat.

As I go,
My mind is excited and exciting
But I see the faceless faces,
expressionless, wanting
faces but not grasping
at the ones they could have.

There are two boxes.
I am on the outer box, and
the faceless horrors on the inner.

My college life so far is
"The difference of squares,"
writes the calculus teacher.
Speedy notes to get back to the thought I had.

Crying in despair about
never crying about being happy,
I realize that the faceless all
enjoy the meta-humor.
Even without mouths, I can hear their cackles.

Why are we alone? We few
colored souls, drowning in a sea
of grey pidgeons,
messenger birds from
the great shepherds.
They send wavelengths by
robotic pideon neurotransmitters.
It sounds silly, but they do it.

When the message flies
free
to our drums,
we hear,
"Dude, shouldda come drinking with us after the game last night."
"I'd rather not, the color is important to me."
Color is vibrancy; keep it, keep it please!

I must warn

The high achievers

To stop reaching

For the sky

Great success

Has its downside

Over rainbows

Do not fly

If you do

You'll get what's coming

Oh, you'll stand tall

In the park

But you'll always be

The target

Where the pidgeons

Leave their mark

Over the hills
where the daffodils grow
cross the pond
where the honey flows

If there is one
place I would
rather see
oh it would
be grandma's
place for me

birds in the cages
birds perched in the trees
hawks owls finches
and showy parakeets

muffins for dinner
**** roast in the morn
oranges and porridges
served at noon
better get it before
a skunks licks it
clean off the spoon!

no rooms are without
a heart or a soul
grandma is quite eclectic
if not the least eccentric

If there is one
place I would
rather see
oh it would
be grandma's
place for me

monkeys snoozing in the closet
pidgeons roosting on the stools
rats in the cellar
and koi fish in the pool

many games as animal's names
polo with the zebras
boxing against the roos
wrestling with the bear
though I'd sure lose

If there is one
place I would
rather see
oh it would
be grandma's
place for me

War

White pidgeons will soar the sky
When the earth has been set in flames..
because my arrows be dyed in white
they shall pierce the hearts of the heartless
of those who breathe but died in life.
Thou shall never be free
sorrow chains the children who cry at night
bound and traumatized
my sword will strike these children,
to open up
so you can witness hearts and minds so hollow like
my sword will strike your inner child
so reminisce and remember the day you lost your mind
armed with a sword that writes
and a voice that strikes
I wage a war to bring back the light in the eyes
of those who are oblivious, narrowminded and blind
for those who see ..stand your ground with me

Blow my mind speak in divine flowy sub laminate between the lines, eye cut  through the body cut through love be raunchy, rhetoric the answers already there I only breath heavy air I'm not a millionaire more like heir to nowhere, master of the barren pasture, salt in wound the morning after sick puppy **** lucky grab chunky crunchy munch the bunch, bunch the rest you know with the radar casters the radio sonic receiver digest the pulpy black and white the combo of lie then excite feed proper postures for pompous up nose president of class Pegasus rider cloud shaper cloud crafter come down cast plaster mold masters mocked by pidgeons sheep dove chickens chicken check the crow rear morrow  yesterday's sorrow the future is hollow the present is persistent presence pupil popping places penultimate progression equals one plus two divided by what will you lose loose lip secrets lapping ears too soon big boom drama driven **** man that spoonful of sour truth hurt more than the knife cut of gossip lie lay the toss up on the table listen listen speak to angels or angles figure out the when where why or just taste the night on palate of your soul roll the bones roll the ***** thoughts home grab deep sleep with your dreams kiss em goodnight then let loose a parody of screams one night stand craigslist ad see em again hopeful hopeless hopping ***** home wrecks homogenize energize heavy drive crash core kick door boot scoot root shoot dug up what luck food truck nation street of treats get groovey gravy with the spicy enticing lacy noodle mood lighting . Uh yeah man

no my heart's fine, but i think she broke my liver

The sun is below the horizon
and the light wispy clouds
glow with soft hues of red and orange.
I look down at my feet and then pick myself up,
its time to go.

In every direction people are walking. Fast, like the worlds gonna leave then behind. Important looking people, wearing slender shoes and high heels. They look straight ahead as they go, and the traffic stops for them. I grab my bag, heavy with stuff, and step off.

They walk around me as if I were a plague. I see them coming, I try to find a kind face, but there are none so I keep walking. My legs ache, my muscles refuse to move faster and my bag is so heavy. My head feels like a lead balloon that floats with great effort.

12th and Mass.  The ****** patrol here at night, but know its just the walkers. One brushes past to make the light, wiping her hand on her pants as she does so.

I must have a disease. Everyone else can see it and it disgusts them. Maybe its written on my face, but I dont know. My arm aches as I cross the street, so I set my bag on the sidewalk and rub my resentful back.

A man walks by, slowly towing a small elderly dog behind him. He has a kind face, shining blue eyes that seek to connect without speaking a word. He softly coaxes the dog along with one hand while holding two more on the other. Everyone sees the tiny dogs. They turn their heads, stop in their tracks and make baby noises at creatures worth more than me.

I am surrounded by people but I am not among them. I am the vermin they cant get rid of but wish didnt exist. Even the pidgeons are more welcome than I; yet I remain unable to go, unable to stay. The man walks back by with the old dog in tow; he looks at me and I feel my power return. To be human is not a permanent condition, but a look from a stranger can bring it back.

I ask him for money, spare change, anything. He says he doesnt have anything, but he's sorry, and I pet the old dog.

The small creature gazes at me through cloudy eyes, wags his tail, and lets out a grunt. For just a moment I exist, and then I move on to face the cold night.

dem streets ain’t know yo name
just be out there like hunger on parade
all Mardi coup de grace, with spiked tea-
and neon giblets… all draped over hot coals
and incandescent funk. with meter maids
and pidgeons-
sweeping thunder under rugs
everybody know
ain’t your real
Hair.

dem streets be like consequences
marching with a band of thieves. tuba prodigies adagio
with oily smoke and cauliflowers marinading
in umami and soiled alters.
switchblades are like optional candy.
sharkfins in buttermilk
more like an actual
Wednesday.

dem streets be soaking bullets in Kopi Luwak
chuffing pearl dust off a subway chit
while staggering home from a dust-up
at Berkley.
we keep telling ourselves
to tell ourselves something
but forget to remember
how to forget
about it

out loud.