Monday, August 2, 2010

April 20, 2010

On the Road: 2010

We need to get out.

We could be the nouveau Gonzo club.

We’ll find a Kerouac and a Bukowski,

hit the road,

off we go.

One of life’s little intermissions.


I am a brick

Heavy are my words

Compacted, cemented

Thrown at you, concussed by the blow

Of my honesty.

The End of Juneuary

My neighbor’s smokin’ trees.

Pollinatin’ like bees.

Outside a girl’s feet are flip floppin’


I remember you every

year, every

hour, every

kiss, every

bite, every

step, even



a chimera

August moon, forest bed, David Gray.

You cried and you came

I cried and I left.

It is ten years too late, but

I remember you and I wait.

The Awakening: 2010

Jealous fragments and she waits silently

Under the moon. The biggest moon.

A year gone by, and he’s gone

Sleepless sunrise won’t let her forget

She’s not in his bed

Her nightmares knock at sunset

Driving her to the edge

Where the water runs

it welcomes her. The biggest ocean.

He awakes

Under the sun. The smallest light.

A year gone by and she’s gone.

The front page unfolds

She’s back, on her back at the shore.

And she’s gone again.