Sunday, March 29, 2015

someday I will run
out of stories
like rivers run dry
when mountains lose height
like jokes that deny
loss of the light
someday I’ll be caught
in eternal reluctance
chapters will fall
from my self like
I will disobey
and beg sober destruction
someday I will run
out of food stuff
like peasants denied
the storehouse of words
will be ambushed
I’ll cry
what  have I done
what’s the point of it all
does it matter this
shall I bloody the fall
for a story a poem
is it worth being tall
in a land of the shorts
in a land of the small
And what points a rhyme
to a dark night is all
my map and my saint
and my bloodied crawl
some say it’s tourists
some say the worst
some say the best is
what some say I just
someday I’ll run out of stories
it’s true
I’ll write from the grave
it’s an honor
for few
the bull can be knave
the sword can be you
I’ll run out of stories
it’s sure and its true

I’ll write from the rave
it’s an honor for few

Wednesday, March 25, 2015


magic is risk
a fire set alight
magic sleeps in the
same clothes every night
it’s revenge when you’re old
and pretend it’s the light
magic  is going to hell
in a hand basket
magic is what came
before you asked it
a bottle uncorked
a liquid that’s blasted
the front door
the window
a passage untraced
black cats rumble
the witch in the kitchen
magic is risk
and fire and then some
magic sleeps in the
same clothes every night
love her or leave her
she knows what is right
ready for death or the dubious life
magic is risk
like the day betting night
dawn is the bullet
makes it all right
dawn is the handshake
the dubious clause
a contract you meant
a contract you avoid
magic is clueless and handsome
a noise
magic is sound
the kind you rejoice
and when threatened by death
in a memory verse
magic lives on

for better or worse

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Northern lights

For Carmen

urban cliff dweller am I
with the soul of a hermit
searching the light
in an alien sky
I’ve been warned of the storms
considered regret
I wander in restless
celestial deterrent
sit at my desk
and wonder what’s next
I pound keys into stars
words land uneasily
the rest of my scars
are stories told freely
I wanted to witness
that unearthly glow
cramped as I am here
in darkness below
the cat creeps beside me
his eyes all aglow
what more do I need
what more can I know
evil is written in stone
and in snow
in rivers that rage
deserts I don’t know
urban cliff dweller am I
with the soul of a hermit
searching the light
in an alien sky
I am home with my light
my river that flows
my witness to self that
continues to grow
my desert that kills
each passing word
I live by the light of
unknown northern night
I wonder what’s next
shall I stay shall I fly
I wonder what’s next in
my northern light

Saturday, March 14, 2015

I am afraid I will 
go growling again
fantasy shopping 
in windows begins
I am afraid I will 
go frowning again
fantasy looking in mirrors
when story unfolds
again and again
I am afraid of the nautical end
the knot tied securely
the lighthouse defused
it matters like friendship unused
it matters like
friendship made in minutes
I am afraid
I don’t care who knows it
I am despaired
I don’t care who wins it
I am afraid I will
crush it and sink it
wake in a drunken slumber
find the bow, find the captain
prepare to take orders
we are fucked
we are scorched
like the first explorers
burned like the leaves
of our imagination chorus
I am I’m afraid
a simpering thesaurus
What child you knew
upsets and burns forests
Fuck life fuck end
fuck beginning unfriend
I find it hard to connect’
and easier to unfriend