I caught you in the afterglow
excitedly I squirmed,
a nervous cough
all bets are off
my suspicions are confirmed.

So now, that I am wondering
just what you're going to do,
I packed your stuff
it's going to be rough
guess you didn't think things through.

Fall and winter are coming soon
repeatedly I've said,
don't steal from me
and then, I see
my possessions hidden under the bed!

A curtain of false civility
like tall grass hides the predator
whose ripping teeth are veiled
by lips of greed
all the better to stalk
profit

Don't mistake the gleam in laughing eyes
for a cheerful twinkle
humor masks the mirth of sizing up
an unsuspecting prey

Those who take him for a friend
taken in by feigning of good will
are merely meat in waiting
ear tagged for the cold locker
a meal for when greed's hunger
makes him drool
don't be that fool

It takes five broken cameras
to tell the story in pictures.
No one can hide the truth
by building a wall around it,
It takes one look into
a child's eyes to see the laughter
and the tears, to hear the
geese honking goodbye into the
silent winter of your heart.

Spitting Flies

I sit and spit whole flies on a dusty floor,
nothingness comes close but I soon reject
Particles are disturbed as the flies soar.
now, I believe those parts get my respect.

The day didn’t start good, soon got worse,
to many parts of my life keep shrinking.
Not as if we’re given a chance to rehearse,
why does a widget in a can get me thinking.

another aged vanity
another baby grand
another california king

these hovels each
a museum becomes
all replicated
grandstanded
re-exhibited

exhausted

archivists
conservators
curators
all

the heat is an emotion
like the fluid exertion
roll over and inhale
the burning shit
aroma swirling above
the buffalo hay and
buildings scattered

dried mud flakes
on everything
we are mummies
of canals where
everyone crawls
slowly

the roads mined
and everything crushed
by the forty eight tons
of the tankers

thick american diesel
exhaust

On the beach gathering some stones
To decorate the front quarters
Black and white, immense and petite
All set to be carried away
In different baskets we’d brought

From the pebbles I collected
A gleaming object reflected
Rainbow colours inside the sun
Against the evening skyline
A gold coin meant money at hand

I turned the item round and again
Within the palm of my damp hand
Yellow turned into golden hue
With an edge of silver lining
When dropped in the ocean water

well ya'll/you’ll be enticed

what ever you may say
i shall entice you one day
the charm of a woman
none can resist
no matter how much
one does persist.

I will entice you one day,
if it is not today,
at least
some other day

with all the experience
behind my years
i know by now
only a girl can do
without any fear,
no matter what her intentions be
her lover that can never see

Freedom and liberty,
so often a catchphrase
sacrificing sanity
at the end of a smoking gun.

They're not concepts of faith or belief
they are complex ideas with no absolutes
that require thought, sacrifice, and grief
and need to weigh loss with answers.

We live together for better or worse
and freedom to kill is often the first
liberty lost.

So we consider what it means
when we lose the right to cause harm or blame
and gain the good of mutual nurture
guiding us to a better future.

static distance
collapses into
a front seat smile
along the road
somewhere
past even caring
a reconnection
lost to time
recalled in a song
by someone unknown
yet, somehow he knows
my story
the whole sorry story.
me
and lost love
sung in 12-bars of ironic blues