Monday, April 17, 2017

this minefield of posts
under a curious step
explodes grief and joy

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

I don’t even know why 
I’m tethered to the word
I know what I like
I know what I hate
I know what bores me to tears
I know what annoys me
deploys me
underscores me
I know what has nothing to say
I know what you are
what I am this time
I know what will change
when the words
hit the rhyme
and the backbeat rebels me to fears
I may have forgotten
those words when
they meant
the stuff purely rotten
things I don’t say
when I want to play
the garden
when the beat was
when the song was
a drifting on a Montauk sea
I know that you got
the challenge in me
like a clown on the wire
like surfboard on fire
like a man who knows when to
quit the desire
I love you beyond
the why
I love you here
on drunken denial
I love and music is our
special friend
I love you forever until our end

Friday, March 24, 2017


on an inkspot
an argument
trial by fingerprints


on a shadow
a sweat stain
tunnels through restraint


from decision
a revision
mistaken for benevolence


when the answer
reels up
smacks the heart with insistence


at the bottom of
the blood red glass
desk lamp the focus on the ask

Glare after all

Glare before fall

Glare when it ends

Glare will begin


like the poet said
in underground rhyme
this brutal heart with the hole is mine

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

For Nona See
of or involving the agreement or cooperation of two political parties that usually oppose each other's policies.
I bleed from a hole in my heart
like a child, like an angel,
like a bipartisan
who craves the abyss
who masters the stress
then decides
life or death
the first of us
who worshipped gods
fell to the sun
are we involved
are we on the run
my shoulder aches from
carrying the question
I’m not as old as the
place where I bleed from
the hole in my heart
the friendships I harbor
like a sailor, a poet, like an unformed artisan
who braves the remiss,
the memory
the bleeding
I worship the nods
to what is real
to the sand that irritates the blistered heel
that keeps trekking
over truth, dispute, death and divorce
and speeds to
the hole in my heart for
youth and regroup and
breathes a new force
I breathe down the hole of
a telephone line
I am yours we are them
you are mine
you are mine
that monkey that changa
that poem that reminder
love is a drug
and nothing is blind

Thursday, January 19, 2017

She sneaks up on me
and comes from places
I may regret
or rejoice or can’t shake
the noise of bottled memory
uncapped and spewing
a heart full of races
from her and to her and
then swiftly away
She sneaks up on me
in my familial stance
hands on hips
eyes lowered to see
who has harmed me
I cherish those times
when I had the chance
to mock her
to laugh and to
warn her I was
no easy target
She sneaks up on me
when I feel my hands
grasp my ample hips
and I tell her in memory
she no longer inhabits
the good in me
the mood that places
my hands on my hips
has no other reason
than to see at a distance
those recovery ships

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

bleak bloody blindness and
the sharp cruel behindness
of things darkened in shade
expecting growth
in a sun gone waylaid
my notebook is waiting
like an Sherpa on Everest
give her direction
or she will crash first
now or never
doesn’t matter this time
she will plough on and then some
only anger will gnaw at
demeanor gone frolicksome
he died she died we all died
in frozen retainer
I had wings once
waxed and full of desire
my mother
my father
my sister on fire
a corrugated face
allows the rain to drip down
an unregulated race
stumbles to finish
the race to the crown
the most important word
is yes unless it is no
we are all the same humans
in our quest for desire
what we don’t get over
are the remains of the fire
earth is a stew
we may rise above
the pulse the breath
we are a bleak bloody blinded
discordant choir
the best people left
tell the stories round the campfire
surrounded by death
lift the mandolin
the harp
the fingers snapping
the heart
rules the space between things
soar now or dive
the heart only sings
drink until rules
change into wings

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Pollyanna space thrill
a cup full of wastrel
the finger lingers
hovers above the dyke
waters rise nonchalant
landlubbers are drunk
how do I stop it
this vitriol
this waste from the font
how do I cop to the
the fight and the pace
illuminated hate spills into Times Square
white rage
and the umbrage 
that will reverb like hot phlegm
it makes me see rage
it makes me see them
when, in my bunny slippers, robed and asleep
I choose to count warriors
instead of sheep
it’s a Pollyanna
I am in the first car
when it returns to the base
I’ll re-ride the black star
the cyclone hits again and again
I’m fucked if I lose
I’m fucked if I win
there you are
here I am
in the midst of a war
there you are
here I am

this is it so far

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

even then
uneven time
even then
the salted wound
even then
the men, the men
and the women were something to fear

even now
the memory post it
even now
given grace by a story
the knowing look
away from the stage
where you have chosen to be
where you will age

even then
uneven now
even then
departing gloom
even then
the men, the men

and the women are something to fear

Thursday, November 10, 2016


the dying goes on and on
like a waltz undressing a song
the windows are open
birds leave their wires
alignments betrayed
and the dying goes on and on
help me I cried
give me reason to live
while the dying goes on and on
like a monk with a lotto win
manifest your future
you silly old cow
she says with a wide apple grin
help’s on the way
make your intentions clear
the dying goes on and on
the living take longer to win
there’s a bird on the wire
with a message that comes
none too soon
manifest your future
take charge of the fire
don’t follow the rest
plant yourself on the island marooned
scrape the sand from your heart
uncover the jewel
leave your life in the hands
of this big poochy moon

For Maria

Saturday, October 29, 2016

I can’t remember your name
which doesn’t mean I didn’t love you then
it does not negate my mean in those times
I was a falling down human
I was a falling star
the people I hurt
are in this glass now
at the bottom
who will rise to the top
tears are for queers
and straights and angry
and funny in one liners
in so-called undefiners
I can’t remember your name
and one time you seduced
me and ravaged me
I was a fairy a nondescript
until you saved me
like all the bosses of
my body and my soul
I can’t remember your name
like me
like you
that is all
that is all
she says you were born to be loved.
maybe, maybe
I was born to be a slave
maybe, maybe
I can erase
maybe maybe
the time has come
maybe maybe
I am home in this place

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

how to be a woman

it’s harder than you think
so many inconsistencies
trip the female on her way
where to go
what to be
in the cold light of day
how to handle expertise
how to sound like a woman
it’s simpler than it ought to be
many sins notwithstanding
it causes females to duck and sway
a winner’s grandstanding
when the no fly zone
is tempting
where to check hairdos
in orchestrated  debates
before lying onstage
before coming of age
you have been groped
you have been raped
that’s understood
you have twisted that hanging rope
of every male who has
fucked your sweet hope
you have gritted your teeth
under a duvet of lies
being a woman is easy
with compromise
wear your heart on a sleeve
that leaves an arm fully bared
ready a punch or caress
the grin or the stare
how to be a woman
it’s easier than you think
trust your strength
send the clowns to the corner
make them stare into the brink
mine your worth
write your lyrics
be a woman
be earth