4:45 in the morning
But time has no meaning here
I went to bed with the suns dying rays
By the light of a flickering log fire
I sit in the suns early morning light
Listening to the dawn chorus as I try to write
No good so I lay down my pen
How can I compete with nature so grand
Perhaps a bit later unwritten words will flow
But until that time comes
I'll sit and watch nature grow

A whiskey and ginger she had before bed
Alas the alcohol fumes went straight to her head
A  wobble in her step  as she crossed the room
Humming to herself a romantic tune
3 steps sideways and 2 steps back
She stood on the dog then sat on the cat
She turned to me with a smile on her face
Said why dont you come and visit my place
Ive got a present for you if you come to my room
But you'll only get it if you get there soon
So I entered her room, heard gentle snores
The present she promised now locked behind tightly closed doors

Seated so low in your sportscar
You still look down on me in my
Torn and ***** workwear.

But know this: I stood on the floor of your
Basement garage, and saw only sky.
Your luxury apartment was air.

The rough concrete behind your walls
Were those of my workplace. I know
Things about your bedroom you never
Will.

I don't want your respect; I don't need it.
I helped deliver your million dollar baby.
I have seen your home
Naked.

So sweet now, my life.
The sounds my woman makes from
The next room
Pronounce home.
Pronounce unalone.

So sweet now, my life.
Winter is over and tonight we sleep
By open windows.
The sounds of the night shape
Our dreams; we awake remembering
Adventures.

So sweet now, my life.
A palace of contentment raised on
The sound foundations of
Tragedies and pure ecstacy in equal
Amounts.
As any life should be.

So sweet, so sweet. Belly full of milk,
Mouth full of honey.
Rain is a cool shower,
Snow confetti.
The Dome of Sky a hand above me
That assures that all is safe.

No step I take lands wrong.
No step brings me away
From anything
Sweet. So sweet now;
My life. My *life.

Outside my window I count
Three shadows.
Twelve legs.
Grazing.

Up here we call the elk
The King of the Woods.
[Antlers the width of your widescreen;
As convincing a crown as any].

When they run past the house
The crystal shakes in
The cupboard.
The cat breaks records up trees.

I am a man.
I am merely a man.
I will never own the night.

It is a declaration of cowardice.
I put my pen down and
Step away slowly
[Defusing the letter bomb].
They don't always turn the
Other sheet, you know.

Sometimes the poem
Writes back.

On my every birthday
I give my mother
Flowers.

You are in as little a hurry
This morning
As you've ever been.
Re-engage your safety.
Holster your stress.
Your car is a gun.
Your key the trigger.

Two ton hollow-points flying
Down every street in the world; lead
In search of potential tissue.

The father witnessed his own heart
-Shape and weight of a five-year-old-
Break into molecules midplay
On the parking lot
Under a blind reverse.
Perhaps the groceries blocked her view.
Clip emptied in a split second.
Your car is a gun.
Your car is a gun, a child's tunnel vision
As narrow as the barrel of a .22.
Aim carefully, away from people.
Squeeze, don't pull. You hold lives with
Your steering wheel. Destinies under your feet.
Every turn you make has room for tragedy.
Your car is a gun.
A hot, smoking gun.

You are in as little a hurry
This morning
As they are to put something so
Small in the ground
And return with heavy unhealable hearts
To a house
That won't see them smile
For another five.

Collapse renders
Tunnel
Cave.