Tell Me Again

Your notion of nation

Your notion of hood

Your notion of station-

Ary denunciation of crime and

Love incest too soon

Will stall

The Pall Mall

Between his lips

But don’t plan on kicking your hips

In the right direction

There isn’t one

We’ve done this job before, son

And there’s the trail:

Just to the left

Just to the right

Out of sight

As usual…

Out of sight…


You never knew

How much I cared,

Did you.

You never knew

That I was in disguise

That I was secretly


Because of your meanness

Your ugliness.

You never knew

I was one

To spit back.

Political Rites

I twist in the conflagration of my mind set atop nationalistic rite

I worry that some day the reflections of my youth may pass me by

Like traces on the car window

Driving 80 on the freeway

I am from America

These memories of what happened do not stay with me

My civics

Is the nation’s civics

It is not knowing who the vice president is

But it is also researching state candidates for a half day

And casting an informed vote

It is silence in privacy

And watching the protestors on TV

It never happens to you

Until it does

And then everything changes



A tool

Forsaken in the name of


Reckless fool

Stymied supplicant

The plan all ruined

Nation ablaze

It’s coursers set free

And damsels too

So it goes that

One step to the left

Can knock over the decorations

At the fancy restaurant


‘Winter crashes at your door

And neuropathy lays its crest on thee

You yodle, yodle, “Toodle-ooh”

The valley yodels back



I swear I heard something down there

I swear I saw it coming

Problem is,

No one believes a crazy person

When their nuts go a’bumming


I’m full of straw

And yellow, too

I wouldn’t know how to get from here to there

Without my own left shoe


The seasons change

I’m of stormy mind

The calm is a distant past

I lay to rest

And hint myself

When will I not be harassed?


These people here

And there and


Walking past

Neuropathy lays its crest on me


The spikes of pain

Come and go

When will it let it be?

A Healthy Snack

This judgment (of capacity)

This makeshift abode (for bodies)

This wallowing of dream

A healthy snack (for me)


Crisp, clean, cut like butter (up)

Crunched upon ’til dusk (’til dawn over again)

Haven for a lost stranger

Wallowing, wallowing (wallowing)


Never strayed too far (or near)

From mother’s footsteps (silently)

Caustic memories never erased

‘Til the night gown slips on (and I am seeing through)


Now I am strewn across the sofa (delightfully)

In torn-up pieces (disposed, predisposed)

Like shredded paper

And I toss the window aside (one last time)


The wind rushes in (with vigor)

And I am that lost stranger (beside myself)

Categorizing her mistakes

Counting on the windowsill (to ten thousand and one)


If you can tell me what this is about I will give you a cookie. I will have WordPress install it on your computer for you. Free of charge. Because I don’t know what it’s about.

That is all.


Salt Water

Tidal strewn on coast like a bandana slipping off an athlete’s forehead

Salty water cracking lips, mist and vapor shooting off the hot surface

Too tender, the lapping and adjustment, for the moment

A competition to see who can crash the loudest

Racing against the clock to destroy the competition

Sun racking the earth beneath

And gradual, gradual erosion of skin and stone

Back from whence it came

Nest of Disrepair

You in disrepair, dummy

You too broke to fol’ laundry atta laundry mat

Too old too stale for a shale digger t’ dig you up

‘N outta the hole you dug yesself inna

No winna to-nite, brag all ya want

It’s rough

But you gone

You fool gone

And gone home with yo’ momma

Who gun’ wipe dem tears ‘way

Stric’ ‘bedience be a must-have

‘F you wan’ s’vive in dis corner’da wooz


Melodramatic swine came home humble and tearful

Never saw what it was about, I assumed he had been beaten

He said he broke the nest, and the birds died before they were alive

And I wondered if he meant theft like an oppossum or an owl

But no, just broken

And the mother wept and the father died inside

And he came home with nothing but fear that it could happen again

Frosty fate, little creatures so tossed to and fro by nature’s whim

No elegance in power’s hate, only shame

And we can see it, once the sun rises

And we can see it, such disgusting lies

Is anything here a metaphor? Anything, anything? Go ahead, raise your hand if you are.

Night at Home

Closed neck

Featured riddle

Slip past the TV glowing radio shock threats in the dark

Illuminating the corridor, it is gone and past

Tip-toe down, along the path to the room

Find melted wires and spitting desire on the mattress

Lonesome, fix them, rewire them

Fulfill desire

Jump on the mattress