"skinners" poems
the walls of the inside passage
look the same from sound to straight
tugs and plugs dot the coastline
as the quartermaster rolls
giving time for evening glare
pods are in sequence
as the high tail smashes and jaws at the krill
white bellies and sea cows bob and weave
as bow heads glide over haida gwaii
northern lights dance
and tlingit chant
as the tide settles softly on savory shores
their getting hungry in hoonah
as the blue back and beating drums
mark the life blood of the sea
driftwood nets
and sitka spruce
surround the cook house
ravens and tinhorns
man the scullery
kerosene lamps flicker
as clam shells roast
on open flames
villagers stroll
on pebbled sand
*in the harbor of souls
where ships set sail
on might and mass
into the steady winds
of the golden skies*
ice fields (to the north)
of kryptonite blue
cutting hills at
a glacial pace
knuckle clouds
above the snowline
where warlocks
craft a hidden trade
trappers, skinners
muscle shoals
grizzly feasts
in kodiak bowl
determined pilgrims
on a dead horse trail
in search of gold
the holy grail
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 11:52 PM UTC
Pilsner cap switch blade
tie dye and piccolo
greasers and freaks
with platform feet
muscling in
on the bow legged hoofer
tapping
Bursey Hill Tram
Diamond tuft console
mullets n' ****
angels and saints
(unrestrained)
appropriately trimmed
as 3 mile wreaks havoc
on the nickers and
fighters of penn
Bangers and home boys
hookahs and sheiks
hostile geeks
breaking knuckles and jaws
on the caners and skinners
who are locked
and grinding the root
Desert boot foothills
boardwalk jeans
rainbows and sea fairs
and psychedelic dreams
(the platinum queens
jamming it hard
on the jade room floor)
8 tracks
and fender packs
the hottest summer days
psychedelic haze
center hall, graffiti scrawl
(sinister yet refined!)
covering the subtle
yet striking third ****
Brunswick cues
and red man chew
350 blocks
(on a solid Chevy - stock)
monkeys and beatles
and laugh in scenes
pastel dreams
from the long and coveted
velvet scroll
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 12:39 AM UTC
The rear axles hold the kick of twenty Missouri *********
It is in the records of the patent office and the ads there is twenty horse power pull here.
The farm boy says hello to you instead of twenty mules-he sings to you instead of ten span of mules.
A bucket of oil and a can of grease is your hay and oats.
Rain proof and fool proof they stable you anywhere in the fields with the stars for a roof.
I carve a team of long ear mules on the steering wheel-it's good-by now to leather reins and the songs of the old mule skinners.
3k
There's movement afoot.
Occupants and sycophants
Are scattering
From the Rainbow Rooms
To the more concrete setting
Of the Oral Office,
Where the North and South Porticos
Admit the transients
Behind the secure cement walls
Of the Skinners.
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 10:35 AM UTC
I am a rock
Buried under an ocean
where the skinners rule the surface
And everything else beneath
Moves unknowingly with the current
But deep and still I stay
You were a rock too
Left feeling alone and unloved
parts of you eroding with time
the ocean was very rough on you
Yet you were never swooned by the current
Never tempted to float to the top
where the waves crashed in the shore
For your sadness was akin to mine
And the abyssal I have lived in for the first time felt like home
Someday Just like you
I will feel like I belong somewhere
in the vast depth of the unknown
Little did I know
Lost just like me
There are other rocks
at the bottom of the sea
Though how dark and scary it may seem
I know will not be alone forever for
You taught me that it was okay to be a rock
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 12:08 AM UTC