Pan-Handler.

poetry

What do you want?
What do you really want?

How does it add up
to all the things you
think that you’ve
accomplished?

What do you think you want?
Do you even know?

Have you even considered
the possibility that
you’ve got everything you
ever really wanted?

Because odds are,
you probably do.

Or odds are,
you don’t.

Either way,
I don’t know anyway
so stop asking me for handouts

round caked bliss

poetry

baked and glazed and fried
perhaps
stuffed and frosted
strawberry
blast
long and round and twisted
-even holes

four pounds per week
i can eat six in a row

Dispute.

poetry

We would speak for hours
or I’d listen and
you’d tell me all about it.
And it made sense that
it worked that way,
and I never asked to stop
and reconsider the
usual course of events.

But what is one to do
when the truth of every
matter is disputed by
cold hard fact?

I’m sorry dear,
But I just can’t
believe you anymore.

cover me

poetry

the first night we
spent apart i slept
with seventy-nine men adrift
a roaring sea of snoring
lost
without you stealing
my covers–but then i
realize that’s why
your skin radiates
incandescent warmth
when i reach for you
in the middle of the
night. now i know your
thermal secrets

and I’m not afraid to use them
against you.

test subject

poetry

can’t get these things
to come out of my mouth
when my equations are solved
before i write them down
by the things they don’t
teach in school and you’ve
got to find them out yourself
and if you aren’t looking
hard enough, well
that’s deplorable.

Gary.

poetry

And t’s sobering
to see the best of men sit
Fighting for 3 long years,
just to witness all the good times.

To make God Damned certain
that his kids have grown.
To make God Damned certain
His people were taken care of.

It’s not a death in the family
but it hurts like one.

Goodbye Gary.

We miss you already.