Wednesday, November 28, 2012

He died tonight crossing Main Street
can I fly at the swollen moon
can i smash it

brittle shards slice my feet
sparks of dying light remind me
to regret

the moon hangs full
a boy and the landscape are dead

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Just Wind Against The Window

Rustling, shuffling
scrappy little screams

reds to redless
yellow pales 

mean are the winds against Autumn's dying leaves


At 1:37 in the dark early day I can't worry about thoughts or dreams or tomorrow, just a silly little phrase.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

It came out in a burst, so I knew it was right.

Just Fragments, Sir

The night was all struby
flekky and cream
with whimmy little barbs

i stayed up late
bellyache all shoovy and mean

i know you thought of me
too zinny and straight
then you forgate

so, so mean
i was a flimsy dream

the night was still struby
zettled by vizzy little jabs
shoovy so cruel

I cry
so crimpy 
you know i love you

(I saw this wonderness at's a Lewis Carroll Jabberwocky thing.)

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Seasons Change

I dug deep
begging for more 

but my flowers died and the trees fell bare
wind rose from nowhere

i wrote your name on my hand
i threw pennies in a fountain
love me?

sugar thoughts of you 

life's bitter and strange 
you're nowhere
i'm on fire

bringing on the downside
clocks stop clocking
love stops loving

it's quiet on the downside
empty kisses on paper lips
i'm feeling tired

another day 
somewhere starts its dawning

i drew hearts in an early snow at sunset 
raging orange plume


Some days I am just worn bare and none of it means a thing anymore. And on other days I throw wishes at the beautiful sky.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

So Says An Early Storm

I heard this fairytale laughter flying in the wind. Giggles and snowflakes and winter coming early on a November afternoon dropping inches of fluff to snarl ugly traffic.

Life was gentle until I lived it.

I drank too much hoping I would not know you anymore, but instead I was in the gutter and I didn't know my name.

The flowers died after your wedding. Snow fell on brown brittle leaves in early November and that night I opened wine that had turned to vinegar, then stared at my empty shining glass.

I wanted to love you, but it's one of those things that will or won't ever be for you and me.