Monday, February 26, 2018


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--YOU ARE MY MOST RECENT MEMORY


The Weight of Ruin

She didn’t like it
When he kissed her
Kept her mouth gated
Hiding teeth and tongue
In the reflection her eyes wide
But bored like a stuffed owl
Collecting dust in a stale barroom
The old grandfather clock coughed
And stared at them with great
Disappointment and distaste
Another couple kicked to the curb
When the kids returned from the game
All four sat in the living room
Munching buttered popcorn
Some fixated on their phones
Others on the weight of ruin



White Space Days

There was a time when
White space welcomed me
Everything too easy
Music writing itself
No thesaurus needed
Now it’s hard labor
And second guesses
I’m that eagle hoovering
In the sky unsure where
The prey is below
Starving and desperate

  

Dancing With Books

All the books I own are
Up and dancing around me
It’s the Tower of Babel only with paper
Who knew books could be so jovial
So graced with rhythm and balance
That poetry could do the Charleston
And Samba the Blitzkrieg Bop
I get up and start moving
Can’t quite call it dancing
White men can’t jump and
That sort of thing
But I’ve got it in me now
The music spilling from those words
Sentences swaying in a close embrace
When my daughter finds us
She looks like she’s 
Caught me masturbating
Asks if I can at least t
Turn the music down
Then heads down the hall
To her own room



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