Sunday, October 26, 2014

overkill underkill
the thrill undeserved
sanctified realized
undersized is still
toothless and fruitless
a warning a nod
lazy disarming
weighty and flighty
wined by the storm
alone or in measures
of humans unarmed
take a bullet
a moment
a pick of the lot
shoot the wrong from the right
or get rid of the lot
sit by me and inquire or not
I’m pleased with the sound of your voice
dance with me or rather
leave a moment quieter
in a dark corner
where we shall foment
overkill underkill
the latter or former
it matters never the order
sound is the truth of
any great moment
the song, the poem, the drunkards pretend
who wins the lottery
which one has the scent
God is awesome
repent and repent.

Friday, October 17, 2014


monarchial feast
nectar as sweet as freedom
reign forevermore

Friday, September 26, 2014

teach me he says
but he doesn’t say what
you are great he says
but he doesn’t say why
stop killing he says
but he doesn’t say that
read my story he says
I’m sorry for hate
make me the hero
make me see new
tricks that I jump through
teach me he says
when what he means
is love me this instant
you are brilliant he says
what he means is “light me”
he is burrowing now
when he should be spiraling
I watch from the sidelines
his eager following
I paw the earth
like a stallion unknowing
what will become of
this jockeying friendship
him or me discovers foreboding
marauding in kinship
boots on the ground
or weak backyard sunsets
if you kill or be killed
you will never rest
if you cleave to the common
you’ll have missed the arabesque
dismissed the bowman
danced in a hall all alone
loved if you will
by nothing but song

Saturday, September 20, 2014


begin again and
face the soft end
that blue dark of night
that unfinished tune
a deep pond of life
a rank scent of knife
from nature’s death
reclaim the mood
leave the rest
in a childy brooding
stop breathing
stop leaving
stop wanting
stop haunting
go listless for once
while the angels
that child will live
if you leave it alone
that story will fester
until it explodes
step back from the
reject the regrettable
wait at the table
for a story, a fable
patience is armor
and I am begettable
in the blue dark of dawn
I give birth to the moon
in the churlish new morn
I know who I am

Tuesday, September 9, 2014


roam antic evening
blood vessels snake through the sky
only you and I