Sunday, March 29, 2015

someday I will run
out of stories
like rivers run dry
when mountains lose height
like jokes that deny
loss of the light
someday I’ll be caught
in eternal reluctance
chapters will fall
from my self like
I will disobey
and beg sober destruction
someday I will run
out of food stuff
like peasants denied
the storehouse of words
will be ambushed
I’ll cry
what  have I done
what’s the point of it all
does it matter this
shall I bloody the fall
for a story a poem
is it worth being tall
in a land of the shorts
in a land of the small
And what points a rhyme
to a dark night is all
my map and my saint
and my bloodied crawl
some say it’s tourists
some say the worst
some say the best is
what some say I just
someday I’ll run out of stories
it’s true
I’ll write from the grave
it’s an honor
for few
the bull can be knave
the sword can be you
I’ll run out of stories
it’s sure and its true

I’ll write from the rave
it’s an honor for few

Wednesday, March 25, 2015


magic is risk
a fire set alight
magic sleeps in the
same clothes every night
it’s revenge when you’re old
and pretend it’s the light
magic  is going to hell
in a hand basket
magic is what came
before you asked it
a bottle uncorked
a liquid that’s blasted
the front door
the window
a passage untraced
black cats rumble
the witch in the kitchen
magic is risk
and fire and then some
magic sleeps in the
same clothes every night
love her or leave her
she knows what is right
ready for death or the dubious life
magic is risk
like the day betting night
dawn is the bullet
makes it all right
dawn is the handshake
the dubious clause
a contract you meant
a contract you avoid
magic is clueless and handsome
a noise
magic is sound
the kind you rejoice
and when threatened by death
in a memory verse
magic lives on

for better or worse

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Northern lights

For Carmen

urban cliff dweller am I
with the soul of a hermit
searching the light
in an alien sky
I’ve been warned of the storms
considered regret
I wander in restless
celestial deterrent
sit at my desk
and wonder what’s next
I pound keys into stars
words land uneasily
the rest of my scars
are stories told freely
I wanted to witness
that unearthly glow
cramped as I am here
in darkness below
the cat creeps beside me
his eyes all aglow
what more do I need
what more can I know
evil is written in stone
and in snow
in rivers that rage
deserts I don’t know
urban cliff dweller am I
with the soul of a hermit
searching the light
in an alien sky
I am home with my light
my river that flows
my witness to self that
continues to grow
my desert that kills
each passing word
I live by the light of
unknown northern night
I wonder what’s next
shall I stay shall I fly
I wonder what’s next in
my northern light

Saturday, March 14, 2015

I am afraid I will 
go growling again
fantasy shopping 
in windows begins
I am afraid I will 
go frowning again
fantasy looking in mirrors
when story unfolds
again and again
I am afraid of the nautical end
the knot tied securely
the lighthouse defused
it matters like friendship unused
it matters like
friendship made in minutes
I am afraid
I don’t care who knows it
I am despaired
I don’t care who wins it
I am afraid I will
crush it and sink it
wake in a drunken slumber
find the bow, find the captain
prepare to take orders
we are fucked
we are scorched
like the first explorers
burned like the leaves
of our imagination chorus
I am I’m afraid
a simpering thesaurus
What child you knew
upsets and burns forests
Fuck life fuck end
fuck beginning unfriend
I find it hard to connect’
and easier to unfriend

Sunday, February 22, 2015

crawl into a hole
make sure it is welcoming
warmed from all past sins

Monday, February 16, 2015

Credit the calvary, which
shows up in time for the
free-wheeling disasters
you know, in the dream,
where you
scream from a tree limb
or piss yourself
just before you wake
from a nightmare divine
just before the gulf crests
do you see what I mean
this fantastic discussion
this lip smacking urge
to smother concussion
credit what shores
up the kindle that don’t
load the bonfire, the wars
the celebrity grunt
the audience looks forward
players need scores
light the match when the
laptop is open and fired
for once let me load
let me goad let me pounce
you know that I dream
and I dream often this sound
of the calvary arriving
loaded and wanton
built in, remembered
poets forgotten
credit the calvary, which
shows up in time
in the knick of free wheeling
forgettable rhyme
my kindle is fired it’s
not letting me load
I look forward to reading
when the laptop’s not broken
thanks for sharing now
I’ll flip the laptop open
be warned
what once was romance
is now specious built in
I miss that the fellow
the enemy within
is cheating the romance of evil, of sin
that’s the sorrow of
those who despair on the chin
bad music, bad poems,

bad stories a sin
bad poetry you say
well, I’m in. I am in.

Friday, February 6, 2015

talk a glass eye to sleep
leave the ventriloquist alone
on an empty stage
say the prayers to home
you left long ago
origami for beginners on radio
foot on the gas
for a travelin’ show
who is the dog
barking at your door
journey proud you are
you are asking for more
on the road to practical magic
Flash Harry is
fascinated by body alone
there’s a Guinness left
on a lonely bar
and none for the tasking
innocents slaughtered
not that it matters
what my name is
I live in the tortured
you can’t just dream
you must break the law
shatter what seems
unable to thaw
home and the heart is
my council my foe
I am outside myself
the garden gnome
has nobody else
I am lonely and indiscreet
the landmine it seems
is at my feet
do I fit the shield over my face
or leave it undone
like a royal disgrace
I know things for which
I shall be made to recuse
I know things always
my head means to lose
am I mad
am I sane
whatever the bother
I am yours
I am mine
I am the revolver