I lost my job
years before I should have retired
then took cover under poetry
and found 'tis a lovely umbrella
for guys like me much poorer fella

so do not despair
we all have to find a way
to meet our fare

but poetry is far from it
I have burned my fingers
these past 30 years

yet I trudge along lonely
without any fear
when folks like you
silly guys like me endear

so carry on why
fear
compose
emotional
worthy poetry
my dear

the river is rising
but the stones still aren't floating
some of us
are climbing
the golden ladder
to the stars
and some of us
are digging
to the center of the earth

farther than
six feet down
we all get beyond death
the expanding
feeling of sorrow
and ecstasy
in our chest

the smell of new earth
and of forests burning
the heart
the size of an oil filter--

life flows through it
and ultimately
humility
not illusion
reigns supreme

These balustrades are sick and dizzy
and ring still with the echoes of your falling
its distance and symmetry
Your mouth a stripped accordion
teeth strewn on marble like crushed chalk

I was away drilling doll catheters in place,
sweating nightmare goo in memory foam
the revolving chambers fired in dream soil
by leashed lobsters missing their daytime naps

and this through crack smoked hour glasses,
smeared motel keys, the rhizome fields of gag teeth
knocking in the slipping galleys of our plight

It was nice to meet you in the park
sitting on the bench, shaking hands
I feared if my palm felt like a bark
yours felt soft like wet grass lands

your eyes spoke a language of the birds
in a tone gentler than the spoken words
though to you I was yet a stranger
to me they were a game changer

suddenly the bench was too big for two
so we made our way under a mango tree
sitting shoulder to shoulder knee to knee
letting fruits in our hearts ripen and brew

Here besides
I lay with 4am,
replaying all the
nights before last,
a movie I've seen
a thousand times
plays eternally
and on, and on
forty two inches
of LCD magic,
clear as crystal
they mime life

Hell would be a
fine place,
its fires licking
to catapult against
a silenced verity

Listen to our menu option as they might have changed
Stupid automated system after call goes through
I grit my teeth, hope for the best but start to feel deranged
No option really fits my needs so I just punch two.

Which sends me to yet other options, anger building quick
So I push zero five fast times(I was told that that works)
Damned system instead cuts me off...they can suck my dick!
But I try all over again to try and reach those jerks.

I drink
coffee with Cuban rum
and coconut cream.
I celebrate the beginning of summer
by planting forty maple seeds
into a wooden bin.
In three years they will be ready for training.
I wonder,
how many of them will survive
and become my bonsai woodland.
I wish I could have tiny birds to chirp
and better yet children
to climb the branches
or at least a turtle
to shuffle on the miniature turf.

Since the timing
Men still waiting for the great harvest
The eternal begin the giving of corn and the wheat long time ago
Where many dignitaries in this world shall never enter the gate
But shall go by their knees weeping
Some who will be left behind will not they be stained
But they will brought to shame
They shall be consume by fire
And finally become a heap under the sun

freckles, dimples, a cleft lip, a lazy eye --
all the little features you think determine why
nobody will love you, could actually turn out
to be the things your partner is crazy about

a limp that they like
from some accident on a bike
maybe slurred speech
whispering sweet-nothings at the beach

our imperfections and quirks
can hardly hold a candle

to exceptional desire
why do you think they call them
"love handles"?