chasing my tail
on my bike in the lot
empty cigarette pack
disposes of the hot
plotted by the fraught
mistress (the one in pot.)
don’t ask me where i bought
the goodies that i’ve brought
close your eyes boy
accept the purple… just
turn your head and cough.
rhymes with ought 06/22/2009
chasing my tail
phallic produce, yonic flora 06/21/2009
the bananas that i’d bought
had, in turn, began to rot
and the squishiest of the lot turned black.
but you mustn’t blame the pot
see, it’s not that i forgot
it’s that the damned thing went bad before i got it home from Tom’s.
and it’s not like i can complain
when he’s got me on a chain
replace bananas with plaintains
and you’ve got yourself a deal.
in fact my friend i think it’s quite a steal,
just swear that you won’t squeal at my last meal.
2) “it’s a metaphor, stupid”
twenties scattered in a fan
forming throwbacks in the night
lightning flashing in the pan
frenzied hustle toward the light
of the newly spoken word
that my lips had yet to seek
a glistening magic, so absurd
upon one static downy cheek
heaves as softly as a ship
approaching coral reefs
on a stoned-in-moonlight trip
that you grip within your teeth
it bursts my bellflower balloon
and the scream is all maroon.
a prayer 06/14/2009
life loves light,
so mushrooms plume in dirt
like loves like,
so, flowing, busts the dike,
love lights like,
so growers go with earth.
praise me when i’m manic,
depress me when i panic.
living room hazards 06/10/2009
the whole thing cannibalized
by its own innards,
springs ate cushions
dustily bumped to the dumpster
a domestic fate for the origin
of my unbridled desire
for the cast of rotating characters
the many strata
to which that phrase begs
the question: should
i shed extra hours,
easily as the couch
sleeping in 06/07/2009
we glimpsed the distance: as for me,
i slept through noon and more
and dreamed what was going on
had already happened, spread the
familiar feel of it trickled through
my scalp and tugged just a little
as a whoosh extinguishes a sigh,
so her hands worked, at the strings,
though not quite in tandem.
a song 06/05/2009
Cmaj7 F (hammer G on high E)
now all the blossoms have fallen and
the pollen pollutes the air
work is over and i walk alone
the fireflies follow me home.
Dm G F Am
the cats i’ll stop to meet
the people that i’ll greet
the friends who offer me relief
from the hours spent standing at work on concrete.
sonnet 2 of 6 06/04/2009
as we slowly broach the month of june,
i quaff the pollen drifting on the air.
i won’t walk home alone: a whistled tune,
of how spring will linger on my curly hair
when summer slides lately into place,
accompanies me as i bray and bellow.
inhibition gives way with little haste,
i ask a favor of one offended fellow
who often parrots old words by mistake
stapled to my back when i’m at work.
a public kiss at midnight broke my break,
fifteen minutes more i’d longed to shirk…
so the purple laugh of solitude grows old.
i think i’ll swap the green for more red gold.