On the Waterfront
The Moroccan merchants, With their coppery rusty skins, Purveyed marketplace sheets of silk or satin, and met with salty, crusty Russian seamen, Who wore grandiose costumes Made of flotsam and jetsam, All held together with a smoldering layer of moldering gypsum... Gypsies, Devious deviants with deviated septums Looked down crooked noses - Ham fistedly glued upon Meaty faces squashed into pantyhoses - As they pirated the seas of Byzantium. And in this sphere, Their discontent raped narrow minds, and bred fear and ignorance like rabbits in Puppy mills, Filled with Easter bunnies Breeding like contempt... Stealing dangling carrots from lazy asses... Pillaging villages and bludgeoning gays, Until - in each - only honesty remained. 2013 Voyage
Some Passengers in buses
Sit silent but harrowed, White knuckles clenched on chrome bars clinging to a sinking vessel Tossed about violently by wretched waves Praying not to be thrown into The roiling black abyss Praying not to be drowned in the pollution of futility and bitterness. Nor to narrowly escape Going down with the ship Only to be forever lost in a sea of hopelessness. But many passengers Furiously tap away at glowing screens, Frantically typing out TXT MSG SOSs & Casting them adrift Sealed in binary bottles of bits and bytes Hoping to be rescued from the Cruel urban sea and all its floating baggage. 2013 The PastoralThe smell,
Antiseptically Shocking To the senses. Dettol - Carbolic - Germolene. The smell of clean. Too clean. Scrubbed raw Under the sickly green Filter of fluorescent light Reflected off floor-to-ceiling Lavatory tiles of tooth enamel white. A cold, biting, sterile cleanliness. A cleanliness next to godliness Next to soullessness Next to mindlessness Next to the loneliness of dying alone. 2014
Gender dysphoric window cleaners,
Snakes and ladders, Buckets and spades And spades Are spades And a rose Is a rose Is a rose Is a rose Is a rose Is a thorn in my side. Yes, it is. A rose is a thorn in my side. 2014 Custodial
Curator
Of a museum No one ever visits A promise made Is hard to break. Caretaker In a servants' quarters In the rear of the house A place stayed Out of guilt. 2016, June 5th Thornapple Soup
Verbs and nouns
Spun round and round Stood on their heads To see upside down. 2016, December 23rd Safe & Soundfield
In a Field
Inspiration was found By following words That made no sound But were heard Loud and clear 2016, December 27th Sable
The Sable Iris
Beguiles. Smiles. Makes demands (of me?) Commands poetry (from me?) But I am mute. Tongue-tied. Words left in the dust By a racing mind. Breath-taken. Winded by the pummeling Of a pounding heart. Yearning to be set free. 2017, March 20th |
Gravity
You must stay inside For the rest of your days Don't venture outside For you'll just float away To the heavens Above We have not done enough G - R - A - V - I - T - Y The limit's No longer The sky 2008/2009 Three Thirty Post MeridiemScent of warm cat Sprawled on couchback, Basking in late afternoon sun. On shelves, Books - Once artfully alphabetized, Beautifully balanced Carefully categorized - Now fall about And laze around Drunk and disorderly, Dressed in coats made of a dust That floats languidly On golden rays And settles down to a heavy sleep Upon the tops of parched pages Of leather bound tales. 2014 Guinea Pig ClubSitting in a room It's a bedroom It's a red room It's a waiting room She's sitting there waiting (She's ashamed to confess) Sitting there Waiting For something to happen Sitting there Waiting for a thing Perverse and grotesque Just something To someone Who she just hopes she doesn't know Just something To someone Who she doesn't even want to know But this someone - She hopes - Will have a beautiful face Waiting for the sirens To herald a pretty face arrival Waiting for a code blue To welcome that pretty face in So that she can face the world again And cut a doll-faced silhouette So that she can finally face the world again With her perfect little doll-faced silhouette. 2013 Call & Response
Taters chipped
Off old blox On view 4 U In pillories and stox. Yer've seen the ta-tas so Throw yer termahtas It's ok. The Mad-One-A can take all yer mox. 2016, April Almost
He couldn't remember
How many times He'd almost died before. He couldn't remember How many times But definitely twice or more. He couldn't be certain If he really was Afraid of death anymore. He couldn't be certain But he had become Afraid to live, and that was for sure. 2016, December 24th Lighthouse Keeper
She is not my lover, no,
She is my mother Shelter from storm A place safe and warm A place to rest A place to hide Standing firm Against raging tide Her light feeds my soul Makes me feel whole Cutting through darkness So I may see deeper She is my lighthouse And she is my keeper. 2017, March 22 Stairwellness
With a body
In need of repairs Make a choice To take the stairs. Decide to climb One step at a time Opt for the stairway It's never the easy way. With a mind In need of repairs Make a choice To take the stares. Decide to find A fix for the mind Opt for the stareway It's never the easy way. 2017, February |
