Thursday, May 31, 2007

A visit with friends

In anticipation
of my arrival -
the aroma of hops
trickling down.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Late One Friday Night

She suddenly wished
her bed had come
emergency exits.

Family Theatre

The father
embraced the son.

Mother knew
it was a farce
and kicked
them swiftly
for it.

The echo of
a laugh track.


A man came to bed
demanding to be loved.
If only heels
made for better
she remorsed.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

A few of them held out
for as long as they could.
The last of furnitures' corners
mangled by the dog.

Honks, Horns, and Sirens Last

While harvesting the sounds
of the passing cars and trucks,
he found his corpse beneath them.
Honks, Horns, and Sirens last.


Creativity crept into bed last night,
beating the old woman senselessly.

Boyfriends Talk Too Much

She had heard him say many times,
"The only trouble in pretending
is the inevitability
that what is imagined
becomes real. "

She sighed in knowing
it was just not true of their love.

Monday, May 28, 2007

Her Favorite One

The glass panicked
and threw itself over
the counter's edge.
My daughter asked
if we should say a few

Birthday Celebration

Pieces of my insides
strewn across city streets
paint the stumbling path
of my excessive inebriation

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Many Roads to Freedom

While unpacking dishes

my wife threw herself

against the wall,

shattering all the love

that existed between her

and I.

Saturday, May 26, 2007

Pencils scratch
at pages lined -
finding words
to leave behind.

More than her

A man walked into his kitchen
and died.

His wife, upon finding his corpse
still smiling,
knew -

the aroma of coffee
he loved much
more than her.

Poetry Thursday

The seams
of the river

It must know I'm here.

Friday, May 25, 2007


I am covered in
the perfume of exhaust,
thick like a lung
heaving on
the chop block.

Religious Fervor

A congregation met.
The man with a shoe for a head was the first to speak.
But no one listened.
It was the second time this sort of thing had happened.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Similar Fates

In the gradual transformation
in which I became my shadow –
The creeping recognition
I would die without the sun.

Porch Swing

Smushed bananas

Juicy smiles
and melon

Teeth that
shine through
mud and smudge

Screams about
the chocolate

Across a Room (Miles Away)

I take it all
Well you can't,
it's all but done
Then forward I would drag us
on the heels of our love.
There's light afar
and hope among
deflected, spent
and dulled.
By choice or fate
I'll carry through
miscarried like
your childish view
With pleasured
It's time
to put
these thoughts
to bed.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

What is learned

Why does it float?
I wondered
if in my
he learned
about what
counts --
as a good
than about
why things
sink or don't.


Rifled through once, twice, and now ignored.
Letters on the floor below,
We stare and wonder how they got there.


Metal echoes
blue notes
hunting down
a past not mine.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Royal and St Louis

I am sounds from the streets
of a city almost gone.
Raindrops on shadows
meet washboards and beebop.
Jump upon me
sweet banana-bird
I would not eat
you up so soon.

Monday, May 21, 2007


My brain sludges.
drippings on the floor.
Infected remains.
We scoop it all back up
again, in an effort to
stay on task.

Loose Socks

I can smell the over-ripened bananas as
she spreads her knife across the table.
Brown papers bags packed so tightly,
doors that slam against the frame.
She walks away being done.
The Glittering of Pounding away.

The boat and the octopus (Part I)

The whistling encroached upon my breakfast table slowly at first. Yet I sat, spoon in hand, tending to swirls of chaos in a splash of coffee. With the weight of its sound arriving ever faster – a demand to be heard -- I held out for the slightest hope that it was all within the borders of my skull. But then it crashed my southern wall and I knew. Sea water, tentacles and all.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

There is an eruption --
Our words, like vomit,
spill on to floor below.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Beyond my house
snow angels
litter the ground

Friday, May 18, 2007


I pour her over the cliff
and expect nothing to return.
Perhaps the geometry
of our situation has misled us.

An expression of

I struggle with
the slug for some time.
Sliming its way
through my grip,
I pulverize it.
She sighs.

In the Park

Playground slides
and swinging feet.
Swollen-bellied child.
Figures on the shadowed
ground. Giggles. Smiles.
Exhausted, stretched,
and pale among
the dandelion blooms.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Chalk explodes
and rises.
I, too, have
wished for such

About the whole thing

I throw her to the ground
and she shatters...
I am still finding
fragments of her
in the carpets,
under the couches,
and in my hair.
I feel silly about the whole thing.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Destruction of Lunch

A container emerged from the cupboard
and looked upon the scene
vomiting spaghetti and meatballs.

In Vain

As I drown,
little fish grab me by the arms and legs.
Their attempts to teach me are in vain.

Oh Utility

Salamanders cannot invade me so well

I have kept them at bay with a broom.

Somethings, once useful in one way,

need to be recruited for other functions.

I hope my fate will be the same.

Silent Treatment

Why has the
rearranged itself?
I ask it.
But there is
little response.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

The Burden

She cried into her shoe again last night.
They are heavy with the moisture of her burden.
I can barely carry the weight of them.

Out into the sun to dry I suppose.

An Adventure Across the Floor

I slime my way
across the floor,
leaving a trail
of myself behind.
As it slowly dries
and crusts on the
wooden floors,
I can already hear
her words.

Monday, May 14, 2007

In the Car

We are always thinking,
Her and I,
Of ways to perpetuate
This thing we so
Devote ourselves to
Without ever asking
Why it is we go on.

A difficult task

Giant bumble bees
Are attacking me.
But it is all for good reason
They assure me.
So I remain calm
and wonder how
I will be reconstructed when they are done.
It looks to be an arduous process

Get Sad

She and I look at each other
And sometimes we laugh
We laugh at things we cannot speak of
We laugh at things we can see
We laugh at our laughing
and we laugh at the times spent together
I wonder when things will get sad?

Sunday, May 13, 2007

At the Breakfast Table

Between her and I
there are grooves along
a wooden table -
little tunnels
through which maggots
carry our thoughts.
When I speak
her head falls
from the weight of it.
There is not much to say.

Saturday, May 12, 2007

Labor Intensive

He watches my work.
To farmer John,
I am just a porcupine,
plowing his fields
as I roll along.

Friday, May 11, 2007

The Clock and I

I should leave
but cannot.
Words flow
and it is now
time to go.
Our hands still
move together
in opposition
to each others' will.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Pearly Whites

There is a collision.
The texture of crunching
in my mouth is nauseating.

Wednesday, May 9, 2007

The remains

She melts onto the floor,
expecting to be mopped away.
But I will wait for her to dry
and then sweep away the remains.

A Meeting

Water flows
over the kitchen
below me.
It thickens
on approach
and stops at
my feet.
We ache

Evidence of War

She tells me that
mirrors are like
I cannot see.

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

The joy of things

I am overcome
by silly enormous beads.
Oh silly beads,
please stay awhile.

Monday, May 7, 2007

What remains

Father is at it once again --
trying to dismantle the mantle.
It resists him though,
and is all that remains of her.

Friday, May 4, 2007

The way loose

I am twisted within myself again,
wondering how this entangle of neurons
will think its way loose.

Thursday, May 3, 2007

The Toast Lover

I am burnt toast,
my dear,
feathered lightly
with the crusty love
of dried up milk.
I can only wonder
why you love me still?

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

The Sabotage

The tree is sabotaged by my looking.
So willfully it sheds its leaves
for me to pile and unpile again.