Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Swan

A solitary bird;
there is no flight.
Only two hands
crossed.

Great wings
Rest nestled
upon mute 
breast.

Oh swan.
All shadow.
Caged. 
Cooked.

Oh swan.
Sky will
welcome
you
again.

A Million Photos



Roy Rogers and Dale Evans
refused to kiss for the cameras
because Roy said,
“the kids wouldn’t like it.”



Friday, June 11, 2010

Comfort Station

I grow tall in my bed;
my business here is humble.

Out of my house,
imagine small, smaller.

Between pillows
a giant clears her throat.

An Unremarkable Cycle



Time is a chore
who lingers like
an uninvited house guest
measuring unwanted hours
who grew up to be 
unwelcome days.


Thursday, March 11, 2010

More Great Spam Poetry

Trimmed down a bit but this came in an email to me today....spam style.


organize rightness


flustered nihilistic breakers

animalizes under steer



hummingbirds scalp

& takeout sheets


leprosy lover

neuro-tropic

caustically foreign


gasworks exacerbation

shoot out keynotes


tri-monthly

a

bowlegged knock down


Wednesday, February 24, 2010

7 & 7 Is Calling

The only thing I can say about the movie Crazy Heart is that it inspired me to Google two of my half siblings to see if there was a recent obituary for either one of them. My tone if very matter of fact here. Their untimely demise is no longer tragic to me, it is expected just like I expect the timing belt on my 2000 Honda to expire any day as well.

The truly sad apart about this, other than having hurtful drunks in my family with whom I refuse to speak to ever again, is the fact that I don't even know what name they go by these days to find them.

Oh well. I am truthfully better off not knowing. I found this old poem written maybe in 2000 about one of them.

7 & 7 Is Calling

It is a solo act
practiced until he passes out,
his liver shuts down,
or the local police
pull the curtain down.

It is after 2AM and
the audience is hushed.

In fact I WAS sleeping.

It is 7 & 7 calling
ready to take
center
stage.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Monday, January 11, 2010

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Freedom Is Something Else



A beast on a wee leash,


conversations with you

had a limited radius

and around we would go

in shamefully small circles,

never gaining any real territory.

Thankfully there is

no longer an owner,

a chain,

or a fence

to limit me from stretching

out




in any direction




I please.