daily he
looks to the horizon
girds his knickers
runs through the night

often i
think of the future
gird my thoughts
stop dead in my tracks

daily he
awakens to find he’s run to far
cannot return to where he came
so
he girds his knickers
runs

often i
awaken to find i’ve gone nowhere
but cannot return to
who i was

i gird my knickers
up
(higher than i should)
sprint into oblivion

where i find
people call them pants.

quietly awaiting
– (a phrase which somehow always sounds poetic)
the money which will precede
my glorious fame
ousness

Restoring sunshine

Lays a golden rectangle

Through an open door.

Revealing the

Entrance and its

View I quickly

Entered a great

Land of sight and truth.

Allowed by a

Telling

Intuition,

Only revealed by my mind’s

Notion.

I cleaned the vaccum,

So blocked up that it couldn’t

Help but whine and whirrr.

Fuzzballs and hairballs,

Paperclips and some pushpins…

Now it really sucks.

the sun blinked
between the beams of
the bridge as i
drove back thinking:

this feels less like home
than your arms.

I try to write a poem
and end up staring at the screen
focusing on the doctor or pretty much anything
wondering why the words won’t come,
where they have gone,
who has taken my words,
and who never will.

if comets could talk
i imagine they’d have a lot to say
about dreams of falling
about the horrors of fire
and about death

huge heaps of extra
terrestrial molten rock
flung from the slingshot
of that great milky galaxy
hurled towards the smallest
rock they could find
hoping damage in numbers can
be done.

hoping, praying, that they
the comet
still have the power of life
of death
to completely wipe out

because we have taken it
with our fossil fuels

now we can cause
extinct

The familiar hum

Shines like some obstructed star

But I know its there.

mailed to maybe my baby’s death

            from his god

and i don’t condemn

and i don’t apologize for

            i can only hmmm:

i’m Him feeling cooked precisely here

chicken chopped perfectly
edible pieces of bone
sucking on a beak

some things sound better
in japanese verse

varicose veins of yore
extra flabby skin galore
jelly rolls all the more

others do not.

people talk of the neither-world
but they know not of who they speak
and then one night when all alone
comes one who flies from neither land

he’ll come into your bedroom and wake you
looking for his shadow or something like it

then walk to your bedpost and smile as he
offers you his hand and some fairy dust

of course you’ll buy in being as gullible as
you always are and then off you’ll fly to a

land neither beautiful, playful, nor infinitely
youthful. and you’ll long to return from your

flight to neitherneither land.

there’s gnomes there.

laughable hysterical overwhelming emotion
perfectly balanced wall art
and other things that piss me off

Thanks for what we want,

but no no thanks for what we need-

Who can really tell?

back to the girl
to love
to sex

back to an interview
to a job
to a future

back to home
to happiness
to life