PATHS

Stay with me on this path,
I cannot pretend to feel
like you do
we will not share
the path though we
breathe the same air
of the few
what we thought
was purgatory
is heaven and love
here below are the paths
we choose from above
until daylight boasts
our singular roads
when we hold hands
it’s across the paths
the hallmark romantic
those pop up fantasy lives
recorded messages
on phone calls of survival
cheering in stadiums
praying in temples
crawling over the fields of war
paths lie lonely and singular
for a reason or many
to soften, or comfort
to run from when plenty are
striding in tandem
in front or behind
there is nothing to fear
on a path alone
the way is crowded
first time out of the womb
with mothers and family and
neighbors and friends
with priests and teachers
what might have been
there is nothing to fear on
a path alone
the road signs to flee
to the path we seek
euphoria
regret
choice and repentance
pride and the
company we need
for sleep
not a sentence
no matter the love
or whatever you call it
no matter the need
and how we address it
mind the gap
when you step from
your path to mine
mind that gap
it is sacred
mind that gap
it is ours

City

city sounds like city

urban raw and full of pity

for the deaf and the blind

ocean in the black street below

waves like traffic on

on asphalt or hot tar or

whatever it takes however far you go

through city sounds
cotton silent and underground
paths for the hearing and sighted

flushed with wine glass feeding

words of remembering

metro gone north for the

geese that race safe to the reservoir

city breathes as city does

scratching earth for life

for love of urban scent requited

in the lungs the after thoughts

underneath the gaming noughts

killer boots upon the ground

poetry left unrenowned

city wandering

cold called floundering

she remains unknown

she remains a foundling

eyeing age with a heart in disguise
bars are loaded

she folds under the skies
wine is still coded her age defies

city wandering

cold called floundering

she remains unknown

she remains a foundling

she retrains the song
she remains the wanderer

what we forget to remember
are the flat tires fixed 
by roadside strangers
we forget when young we 
snatched the cane of an overlord
and righted the elder
with no intent
like a swan necked round a lover
feathers laid back in alarm
are you my hero
are you here to harm
this is the universe crawling begotten
this is the friendship
we are faced with uncertain
how many times have I drunk
elixir well spoken in language
I know when I’m drunk and broken
it comes back forever
this drink this reposting
beware of the bulls when they
crash through the wrong
I am drunk and unhinged
bored with bleating song
Make a video of this
you panting sad poseurs
this city ain’t dead
though it makes a great poem
this city ain’t dead’
though it makes a great poem.