hiking with sarah (poem)

sarah moves with me

on the trail

we are

as mythic

as mundane as

the woods

themselves

trees reach out

and we duck

like little

animals

who love

to be alone

the sun sets

but light passes

from

her

to

me

she labors in jeans

and an old high school

drama t-shirt

but I see a thin summer dress

at home in 1960—

behind

her parent’s

house

in passing (poem)

i happen to pass the address

and think

they’ve moved

in fact

my mind corrects me

this is two houses ago for them now

on the lawn i gather

someone’s discarded Pepsi can

along with my thoughts of them

although i know very well

the energy required to recycle these things

is almost more than they are worth

i put everything in the blue bin and

leave

addict (blank verse poem)

hint: read it out loud

it can be sweet to be denied in need

perhaps a man might ask through teeth and grin

in poison light to bleed

                         he begs for junk

beneath a stench of sickness killed too late

he kindly pinches beetles out of hairs to make

a place for venom lightning sliding wild

and mean through veins 

                       he dreams distorted nights

in pain with vivid eyes that ride the fire—

he cannot find heroine’s lull

nor can he feel that angel’s pull

instead she stabs him screaming no

care my hands (haiku)

care my hands from yours
our bodies clasp together
no more statistics

dispose (poem)

lie over to me—

float like a bad black thought guided to its last night

die behind a gale blowing like bad tv

there’s no other way to say it

i no longer love you but

you’re welcome to stay til dawn

when everything is killed by our sun

the atmosphere destroyed in ages passed

hold my hand like a dead bird and

dispose of it

a nation is only an agreement

i though it would be good if i read this poem to you out loud. so here is a video of me reading it out loud.the full poem is also written below the video so you can read along.

 A Nation Is Only An Agreement

 

the land we claim is not ours

not the indian’s

not frozen caveman land

it does not belong to monkeys

or lucky amoebas 

once the ancient ideas

of Constitution

walked unmolested

huge in naked frames of sapphire and jade

they knew even in the safety of their centuries

that someone would eventually break

the oath

they could not stop the grinding of their bodies

after the war they hung as symbols

pretty gems on long gold chains

ornamenting

common human

chests

a nation under (villanelle)

A Nation Under

think they not of God?

stand or lie and clutch their photographs

they fear the endless turning under sod

 
knowing then how bodies frail and odd

see no light no glint even a patch 

and think they not of God?

 
lives of wealth or beaten with the rod 

reason lost in taking other paths 

they fear ongoing eras under sod

 
men in daily nightmares forced and clawed 

lone in fields or manicured in packs 

and think they not of God?

 
speech of nonsense hate or pale applause 

crafted tales of love and blood now past

the brains stray fearing quiet centuries under sod but—

still some distinguish death with welcome awe

shed visage woven once of many masks

some thought to think and seek for gracious God

God: 

     who fears no slowly sinking under sod

potato cake

Potato Cake

I don’t feast on prayer. Now my banquet is gone...

There’s just some broken bread for murder’s sake.

Mock I His blood in weeks spent pissing on,

while holding in my hand potato cake.

Who mourns the widow’s loss the night she cries?

We burn the dead, and all the poor we bake.

Like men in pridey walks we shed their kind,

and then we offer down potato cake.

Once Sunday passes silent and I’m sure,  

I’ll hope to Me that I will again taste

the aspartame, the junk, the filling core,

A pan of steaming fresh potato cake.

I’ve heard who God forgives He kills to take...

Instead I think I’ll live and eat potato cake.