I liked discussing fiction
and dylan
and the meaning
of poetry
and the meaning of anything
with her
late into the night
at the kitchen table
when sex and sophistication often get blurred
between the beer and the sheets
we separated the wheat from the chaff
and she saw a fair amount of me
in herself
deep and probing
a role reversal of muse and mentor
hours of twining blue thunder passion and wet splendor
immersed in ourselves
the arts
spoiled in our own pleasure
it was hard to separate the two faces of distinction
resting high in our thoughts
a convergence of twin heavens
highlighting the terza rima of dante
what will happen
happens
coupled in a soigné bed
a candle flickers effervescently
and she said I mumbled in my sleep

what is going on here

let what will be
be

I told her there was two ways I could push this love
I could push it from the front
or push it from the rear
either one
anyway you gamble
place your bet and take my solemn poison
humming solfa syllables
gets the same crying guttural response
from the back of her throat
waving her arms with wild abandon

we laughed about her practicing on her gag reflex
when she cried she was completely enchanted
I suspected
she would be quite the professional
by morning
she learned quickly and we carried that to the table
with cheese and wine and she found the perfect cucumber and a sharp knife
none of that bothered me
it simply
added to the carnage of fractions
and the simplicity
of numbers
one of us was intuitive and one of us was rational
one telluric the other ethereal
we spoke of contraries bleeding centuries together
we talked of theater masks and sweet surrender
we whispered
the trysts could only get longer
until we found ourselves sleeping
with the sun
afternoons on the run
chasing deaths errands done
and nothing more
every day passing by the novelty toy store
on the corner

I saw her head turn
wondering when I would take her
to another place
to another height
came the dawn and we wanted to go on
but we turned off the night
and raged
against
the morning light

we raged against the morning light

from A Killing Frost Falls Down Tonight

collecting snow in a clearing

I remember reading the words
of an old white haired poet
who told me
if you are going to go deeply into poetry
give your whole self to it
go whole hog
too many take it carefully and fail
if it is to be your life
make everything else subordinate to it
there is a secret in small things
a poet has to allow mystery
cultivate a poem just as he cultivates the silence that underlies
and buoys it up and surrounds the language itself

try to raise perfectly common seemingly simple speech
to a moving and memorable experience
a good poet understands more about language
than linguists
you have got to feel it
the emotion
but you hold back from saying it
keep it in
then the power is there
keeping it in
poetry is a process
a renewal of words
a dawning of an idea
poetry tends to evaporate from the prose and verse
when translated
because it is the truest liberal arts

poetry makes nothing happen
but survives in the valley
of its own making
every poem has its own little tune
that is the way it comes to you
as a tune
you got to know how to do that
say it so you get the tune too
rhyme
you cannot do it without that most of the time
you got to know how to take care
of the rhyme

to be wild about

from A Killing Frost Falls Down Tonight

something a woman told me one day

she said she could feel it pulling at her now
like a child trying to get its mothers attention
just a slight tugging
but constant
until the mother gives it the attention it deserves
she said her problem has been that she is always given that tugging depression
more attention than it deserves
which is why it has consumed her in the past
and why it will consume her again
she said it was comfortable and almost soothing
like sleeping with someone that you know will beat you
just languishing in his arms is worth the pain to come
so she lays down in her lovers arms
because it is
oh
so comforting
this is what she knows

it is beautiful in a way
that is incomprehensible to those high on life
she said she has always feared happiness
as the physics law states what goes up
must come down
only the higher she goes
the harder she falls
and let me assure you
there is never someone waiting to catch you
so she keeps herself in a comfortable zone
drinking hot chocolate instead of coffee
and going to bed early
but the sooner she falls asleep the sooner the nightmares begin
now instead of that child tugging on the hem of her skirt
it grabs her hand and yanks
and she goes with it
how can a child deny anything she asks
and she trots along behind the tugging child
trying not to fall as it yanks her forward
suddenly
even the depression is unknown territory
so you are almost in china
so she looks at the child and tells it
no
and begs it to take her back to her chocolate
and the child simply replies

you know you want it

and so she does
as she always has

you know you want it

echoes up from her childhood
he would blow the words in her face
drowning her in the stench of his breath

you know you want it

but she did not want it
she was too young to even know what it was
except that it always brought her pain
but life always does
and so when the child told her that
she replied with what the man of her childhood horror
made her reply

yes please she wants it

but she did not
but it never mattered what she wanted
she always got what he gave her

once she was told that there were caves so dark
that if she stayed down there for four months she would go blind
the same goes for depression she said
it got so dark that she didnt even see herself
just her crooked past
and her problems blocking out the light
she couldnt even see her hand in front of her face
but all that was insignificant because she didnt want to see herself
so
yes

she wanted it

let her lay in her lovers arms
just dont make her see herself for what she really is
because in the end
that is want she was trying to escape
not the tugging child
or her childhood horror
in the end all she wanted to do is escape herself

so
after years of guiding that child out of china
and trying to find where she put her mug of chocolate
she came to look in the mirror
and all she sees is herself
what she expected she wasnt sure
perhaps
she wanted it to show everything she had been through
that way people would stop and fake sympathy
and say they were sorry for that

and she is doing that to make herself feel better
at least then she would get some attention
the kind of attention she had always wanted
her life has been settled into two extreme attentions
no attention at all or a fist in the stomach
of course there is always real genuine attention
but that requires someone more beautiful
more talented
more coy than her
and even if she were to gain attention
she would be terrified of it
because attention like that can kill her guiding child
no hot chocolate
no china
just happiness and a huge crash after falling

if something terrible and life altering had happened to her she said
why oh why couldnt it be more visible
like getting burned up in a fire
someone cutting her face
or falling so hard she became a quadriplegic
everyone would then walk up to her
in horror or disgust
and ask what happened
and she would simply reply
whatever
never play with matches and explosives
but instead
no one has ever asked and no one has ever cared
well that is a lie her therapist replied
but therapists are like whores
you pay them for a fake sense of comfort
and she would much rather get that fake sense of comfort freely
but now she doesnt even get fake attention
so she just sits in the corner of the cave
and hopes for the lights to go out
yea

         so what if she is afraid of the dark

she is even more terrified of looking at herself

god how she remembered the dark and how she longed for it
and still does
as a child at night
she would hide under the porch and with the cover of night
where she couldnt see herself
and he was walking around in a drunken haze
looking for that free fake sense of comfort but he wouldnt see her

         where are you you fucking cunt

she is in china
whore you know you want it come out

yes please she wants it

she didnt
but it never mattered what she wanted
and no matter how long she crouched in the freezing darkness under the porch
she would have to come out
and he would be waiting and she would be waiting
so take her to china little girl
guide her by the hand
and let her languish in the arms of her lover
but please remember to turn out the lights
and she turned off the lights
and she laid down in the comfort of her lovers arms
only now as she lay down with the dark enveloping her
she can see him in the corner
sitting in the chair
smirking at her
telling her she cant escape him
not even in her dreams
and he walks over and sits on the edge of her bed
leans over her and she can smell his breath

you know you want me

only she doesnt
and for once in her life she has the courage to scream
no
and the little girl turned on the lights to assure her no one was even there
she turned on the lights and she screamed in horror
again
she screamed in horror of herself
turn off the lights

yes I want it

yes I am a cunt

yes I am a whore

just please turn off the lights

the little girl turned off the lights
and she wept for her mother
when he was finished with her
and her mother would come sit by her side
the first time she was so happy to see her
so relieved
here she is
her mom
she is not perfect
but she is going to love her
protect her
comfort her
and she looked up at her adoringly
she reached up from where she lay broken on the floor
take me away
take me to china
hold me and give me hot chocolate
I need you

her mother looked at her crumbled on the floor
with her eyes hard and angry
unloving
take me to china mommy
but she left her behind
I am sorry mommy
take me away
please forgive me mommy
mommy
mommy
but she left her
turn out the lights little girl
she is too terrible to look at
turn out the lights little girl
no one wants to see her
turn out the lights little girl
she doesnt want to know what you have done
look at what you have become

the little girl took her hand and ran
she pulled her along
and they went to china
the greatest thing about china is the huge amount of people
there are so many people that you are never alone
everyone is pushing and shoving their way through the crowds of the unknown
just tons of lonely lonely people and you get to be one of them
this way no one points her out
no one stares and laughs
no one pays any attention
no fist in the stomach
they just shove their way past
so many people and its easy for her to push them away
and she slips into her lovers arms and she sleeps
the arms are warm and comforting
the arms are always there
she can always return
her lover always awaits her
and the child is always tugging to take her to him
so she drinks her hot chocolate
and listens to her guiding child
she can take her to a place where she can escape herself
where there is no light

and there are no mirrors

from A Madness is Within Reach Inside of All of Us

navigating a sailing ship

he had to take a taxi lesson home
for six more months
and he knew he better make the best of it
and there is always people
from the low end of the food chain
sailing already in that sargasso sea of the damned
so when the taxi driver told him
he has to pick up
that crazy country girl
from the bar barbeque joint
they picked up last night
he thought nothing of it

she wants to go out with me
the cabbie said
juking
but I am seeing this girl
from new york

         dig that

I had to move from new york
to florida
to meet a new york girl
he says before he starts coughing
flicking a cigarette out the window
then blowing his nose
in some kleenex he keeps in a box on the dash
and throwing that sickness out the window
as well

this girl I met from new york
her husband says she is
fat
dumb
and
ugly
but she aint any of that
she aint any of that
the cabbie tells him

I had three heart attacks
already
and I am only thirty three
the last one was three weeks ago
but I was driving the next day
but anyway
I told her
her husband does not scare me

after  they stop and pick up the crazy country girl
from the barbeque joint
he tells her a few miles down the road

hey listen

          see that black motherfucker riding that a bicycle up there

naw you cant see him
cause its night
but do you think
you can

         clothesline his ass when we pass by

he shitted me
one night
for a four and quarter
fare
fucking black bastard

naw
I was only joking
close the damn car door girl
before
you
fall your ass out
we are going around a curve
shit
         
          how is my big ass gonna fall out

she asks

it will take a whole hell of a lot more force
than that
to move my big ass

you smell like a barbeque
he tells her

         where the hell you think I just came from

I was telling that guy back there
my wife
weighed a hundred and ninety pounds
when I married her
now she is over four hundred pounds
she doesnt cook
she doesnt clean

motherfucker

you need an aspirin
the crazy country girl tells him

          an ass burn

no
an aspirin

         an ass burn

he asks again
I got one
a bic lighter hemorrhoid
and she is fucking it

maybe you ought to sit
in a fifty five gallon drum
of prep h
get tucks delivered by the semi truck
the crazy country girl says

anyway
the girl I am seeing now from new york
her husband
bashed her over the head
with a cinder block
from behind
one night
and made it look like a break in
she didnt know who did it
till her ten year old kid
told his psychiatrist
he saw his father do it
and the little brother saw it
too
he was five
thought it was funny
you know
he is in boston
now
the father
not sending any money
and she is from new york
like me
and just one phone call to my buddies
and they will drive three or four hours
till they find his ass

talk about an aspirin
talk about
an ass burn

         hey you live down this road right

yeah
I tell him
but you can just let me out
right here tonight
I can walk home

alone the rest of the way

from Accept No Presents and Give No Pardons

a Poet is on His Own

make her listen to me

daytona
the worlds most famous beach
tacky and wacky and within reach
in
june
with a full moon soon
and the hotel has the same slow elevator
and smelly carpet as last year
with the same german receptionist
who is pissed off
because she never made the olympic swimming team
but she takes the card
and the register rings
and the credit card bill stings
a month from now
but somehow in the day of things
its all worth it
the two rooms
ours
and
theirs
and the bed is soft
and they are off to the pool and the beach
and I reach for her
but she wants a beer
because she doesnt want to be here
with the closeness and responsibility
of how it might be
or should be
if she didnt feel like she does
with a headache and an echo in her ear
but they go running for the water anyway
and I am out on the balcony
where I can see the parking lot
and a slice of the beach
and the sky
and the crown of palm trees
hot and humid and warm and just missing a thunderstorm
and later on the way down in the elevator
she tells two women we are on our honeymoon
and we had two beers in our hands
and I put out my cigarette
before I got in
to go down
and walk in the sand
and the two women say
congratulations
smiling
facing us
in their sun burnt past skins of matrimony sins
and I wrote a poem
for
m

in the morning

from At Odds with the Flavor of the Union

it was a tuesday I think

and I was heading to the bar after second shift
and it is raining
coming down in great torrential drops
that are heavy and splattering
with the wind shield wipers furiously
trying to give me
some appearance of visibility
thinking that the moral decay
that is drowning this society
is at the same time showcasing
the dregs that front the television
and its frightening
and then there is writers like pat conroy
who
in one and half pages
can make a fart sound like the most majestic resonance
you have ever heard
and the neon of the bar sign is there on the left
and I pull in the parking lot
turn the engine off and run in for a beer

an hour later I am having  a conversation with a woman
who is a promiscuous flirt
that treats men like a little girl plays with dolls
for her sole amusement and temporary entertainment
then discards them with a wave of her arm
when her interest wanes
and her attention is directed elsewhere
consciously or not she is indifferent to her hussy attitude
that men are always available
if she chooses to scan the bottom
of her list of priorities
and I told her
the most fragile and dangerous thing in the world
is a mans ego
its like a balloon
a mans ego can be inflated by a womans breath
and over inflated until it ruptures
or it can be simply popped by a womans single point
then
what
is
released
is
hell
on
her
but this woman adored the attention of a man
the flirtation
the powerful ability
to manipulate the wandering eyes that surround her
in the dismal avalanche of anxious male eyes
hoping
wondering
believing
fantasizing
that she will recognize and respond
to the agenda in their fermented minds

         me

I left
after six beers
and went home
where my cat ernesto
dragged in
beat
but not defeated
through the door he came staggering from chasing pussy
where he briefly gained immediate composure
once past the door
enough to still stagger painstakingly
and confidently to a complete momentarily
grand and noble entrance
standing resurrected
knowing
the nights
chase
and
fight
was

over

from Forgotten Notes from Nights of Illgotten Grandeur

wheat amongst the silver

a finer substance could not be far from renaissance
cannot deny any more than that
I pulled her from her gilded doldrums
on a late spring night
I have been preparing for
your arrival
way way too long
seems like a dozen years
or two lifetimes or ago

I thought warhols cans were crooked
and the beats always trashed the place
and were too caught up in fellatio
I saw queers with studded expectations
on the subway
spray paint cans
in trench coats
sharp eyes and angry mouths
a goth girl without any panties uncrossing her legs
in front of a mother
with four welfare children
listening to a boom box rattling the windows

I had to throw my hands up in the mist
I cannot climb down there
and it is alright
if that makes it any easier to digest
I did not think it was your phone number
I read on the wall
but nothing is for sure and nothing is lost here
just wheat amongst the silver
heads down
on the pavement
they do not turn up everywhere

she called one day
to say
my poetry was vanilla ice cream
on a hot skillet
and you are never too old to eat
peanut butter and jelly
scrambled eggs
boiled eggs
fried potatoes
potted meat sandwiches
with mayonnaise
you see
I have an oral fix as well
she admitted
baby I needed assurance
thinking
you can never tell
where the next kiss
is coming from
maybe
it is so infantile
but here is the catch
miss the point and it becomes inconsequential
the man down the road collects hubcaps
in his yard for a good reason
stores them like a familys history
shiny melting pots
finding them along the ditches
chevys to the left
smiths to the right

so do not cry for me
do not
she hangs hats on my wall in the summer
said she wanted to call
but she had to do this and do that
and she had the boy
sat tests
ceramics
glazes
and
pacifying
the new teaching sub
and then there were activities
of course
with her parents
on sundays
membership only

brunch at the yacht club

from Millennium Maladies

always open for discussion

there are successes and failures
and there is sweet victories
that make them
keep going on
pushing on
planting on
blazing a trail
as they
weave and slice through
thong

when they are crying about
nobody
writing the great american novel
starting a nuclear dysfunctional family
and nothing seemed as important as that
spiraling
away
from the claptrap
of lifes menial bus benches
desultory
offerings
when what they really needed
was
rain

to make both of them pay for their trials
over
tribulations
casting pantyhose nets
before tasting
the truth of the matters
arrives in all sizes
but he liked hers
just fine
come here
he told her
let me weigh the full difference
in my mouth
between
left and right
morning and night
let me lay within sight
tasting

the gates of heaven

 from Sixty Nine Poems On A Sundog Day

when she returns in a few days

I remember a bar in daytona beach
where it was dark inside with splashes of light
where it counted
and the girls came out from a curtain
and twisted and sashayed around the pole that was full of fingerprints
and sweat and all the nights before them
but none of that mattered
see
I was there on a thursday when the sun was still out
and that was all that I wanted
to stand or fall watching the show
slinging high heels and garters away
splitting the night and day away when I came and left
and the daylight hit me in the face
like the beach in the morning
bright and hot
and all I wanted was to go back to the cool darkness
of the interior
and drink and toast the heavens
raining their charms from above
the cars were inside playing their songs
and there were cars outside cruising main street
and I was mesmerized by a young latino dancer
that could barely speak english
but I guess she knew enough to know how to make  a buck
and she knew enough to say fuck off
in english and spanish in the same sentence
because she had a boyfriend
who was passed out in a truck in the parking lot
and she was hot to look at and that was enough to carry the hours away
to miami or havana
and then I saw her standing outside
wrapped in a raincoat waiting for a ride home
to her children
who was being baby sat by her younger sister
and she said to me
hey mister
I need to go home
my boyfriend reeks of lipstick and perfume
he is no good
and maybe its the music in the place or the beauty in the afternoon
that grabs you by the balls
but when you are alone sitting in a room
or standing outside with a stranger
listening to the young bucks on the radio
singing their life sucks
songs
screaming everybody is wrong and fucked up
like razor blades in your mouth
on independence day with a flag under your feet
and a cat curled in the corner
with its tail wrapped secretly under its ass
hissing at the pissing in the toilet
flushing the hours and butts away
for another smile across her room
and the splash of light flashing across her hair and face
as she walks over the place with her charms in check
and a lightning bolt tattoo on the back of her neck
and other myths stamped across her shoulders
with spiders scurrying at her feet at a moments notice
that leaves you less than suspecting or respecting
to anyone but yourself
but then again you are feeling old and middle age
caught
locked
in
a
cage
in your very own habitat
given that its the words in the morning
that kicks you in the head
every
hour
no
matter
what
time
the clocks hands says it is

too late or too much or too little

from A Murmur Escaped From Her Lips As His Hands Traced Her Hips

venus on a bar stool

she was blonde and petite
dyed and dangerous
but that didnt matter
it was completely inconsequential
she was venus
I noticed her looking at me through the plate glass window
of the bar
when I got out of my truck to go in
her obvious beauty was immediate
her curiosity blindly questioned
she occupied her space like a queen
reigning over time
thoughts
glances
moods
wishes
and I settled on a stool next to her
the only empty stool in the bar
because no one else had the balls to get close to her
and she threw her right leg lithely over her left
shaking her suspended foot violently
when I went to the bathroom
after my first beer
I could sense her head
turn
watching me with obvious intent
I wondered what she wondered
what she fantasized
what she thought she wanted
imagined she needed
what she prayed she needed
I pissed long and hard
when I came out
she was gone
I guess
she left
to find out

what she needed

from Last Night of the Orphan Poems

cuban crisis

she was a young cuban girl
with a big fat
latino ass
full and taunting
golden brown
when she playfully
slapped it
she laughed
but her eyes were smoldering almonds
looking back over her shoulder
daring me
to take it away from her
as long as she still owned it
and could decide on her own
without interference
when
enough is enough
thats not hard at all
she said
with her big thighs
and breeding hips
cocked
deliciously
to one side
forming
a soft
question mark
you have been let out
in the yard
too long
boy
she said
I want some color
right here
slap it
put some color
on this big
round
beautiful
ass
slap it
a dark crevice divided her globes
and she really had an incredible
ass
the skin searing
pink
slap
slap
slap
cook both sides
ruby red
she
panted
with her lipstick smeared
then
turn me over
turn
me
over
when
you
think
I am

done

from Last Night of the Orphan Poems

her body

nicole was a wreck of a young woman
platinum dyed blond hair
up and down
with coke bottle glasses because she was nearly blind
without them
and maybe that was her problem
she could not see to protect herself from herself
and she liked to get drunk at the bars
and when they closed
rollerblade down saint george street
at two in the morning
then go to the cemetery and wonder how all the souls
buried there died
years and years ago
like she could change anything in the past
theirs
hers
or
mine
and she pretended she could just skate through it all
standing up over the bricks and mortar under her wheels
without falling flat on her ass and leaving her knees pressed to her ears
while thinking about
what she could do for the poor horses
on the bay front with flowers on the ears
hauling fat tourists by the castle
because she felt working animals is like men
working their wives
and I shook my head at her thoughts
as she asked me to take a picture of her
in a chair
in a motel room
naked
with her legs flung open
over the arms of the chair
with her porcelain fuzz and pink pussy lips smiling
and her smile daring me
to doubt her meaning
that she was my salt in my wound
and she had other bandages
to wrap her lips around
beside mine
so after we left the motel
we drove home along A1A past painters hill
to down town saint augustine
where she asked me to drop her off at cuna street
because she knew some musician
that worked at a latin restaurant
who might be able to get her a job in the bar
and I never saw nicole again
until she sent me an e mail picture
of
her
sitting
naked
with her legs spread open
on
a
chair
in
a
room
at
a
motel
that
we
shared
a
hundred

years ago

from A Murmur Escaped From Her Lips as His Hands Traced Her Hips

ante up

place your bets
put your cards on the table
tell the truth
when you are locked in your bedroom
lost in your affair
working overtime
loading up your 401 k
burning backyard bar barbeque
on the weekends
with the neighbors over
hitting on the wife of a friend
after she bends over in front of her husband
glued to the cell phone
driving your suv
evenings on the computer
crying in a chat room
stuck with paying the bills
working late till eight pm
balancing the checkbook
playing golf with the boss
drinks with the girls
on pay day
bastard does not send enough money
and she says she is not happy
buying bras for friday
it is not just urban
it is not just suburban
it is just not city
it is just not country

when will the parents
of
america

         confess

we have been terrible stewards
to these children we dress
and send off to school

so we can carry on
with our own first come first served lives

video games till 3am
fast food for supper
frozen pizza
microwaves and banquet tv dinners
that is the real winners on saturday night
these kids are embarrassed by their parents
at some age
and maybe they should be
when they do not see themselves
as they want
to see themselves
and they do not get what they want
as young americans
these children want attention
not there at home
not in a cul de sac
on moms prosperity street

         why is not dad home

he is working
so we can have all this
the mother says
and christmas is coming
and your sister needs braces so she can smile like britney
and your brother needs glasses
so he can learn history
at westview high
and it is not a bomb scare that cancels  classes
but bodies in the cafeteria
blood in the library
huddled under a desk thinking you are next

I am sorry

from A Mere Miscellany of Midnight Madrigals

I wanna life too

before heading to the job
on a dismal raining wednesday afternoon
watching the latest updates on the hurricane
that would strike a string of islands
after a thirty seven year absence of major storms
I had a revelation

I

had

to go to the bar after work
I decided earlier I was not going
did not need it
want it
I should go home
get the latest coordinates on the storm
but someone elses hands were packing my clothes
for the bar after work
determining my destination
knowing tonight I would meet a woman
and go home with her
it was not a self righteous presumption
that came into my head
it was clear concise fact
destiny foretold
I grabbed my lucky gold pirate doubloon
flicked it in the air with a happy smug thumb
caught it
and left

at midnight she came in the bar
alone
lonely
I had been there almost an hour and six beers later
she sat three stools down
ordered a bottle of beer
and I saw immediately she was not my type
blonde
straight hair
chipped tooth
old clothes
no jewelry
make up or elegance
green bean skinny and uneducated
I went back to my own thoughts
hiding in my own head
only the truly lonely shun company
with no beguiling bitterness
she left her beer
money
and keys on the bar
to play a game of pool with herself
aiming sadly at the balls
without any heart
trying to get the sad taste
of life out of her mouth
erase the day
or the last few hours of it anyway

I felt sorry for her
a womans heart is a tomb of secrets
and I wondered what was holding her prisoner

         tonight

         what was out there in the darkness

but there was also a kindred spirit
to her that I felt
a bonding sympathy
because I have walked miles
down that desolate road
that never goes anywhere

when she finished her clumsy and hasty attempt
at playing pool
to merely justify her reason to be at a bar
by herself at midnight
she came back to her beer
and the reckless dismantling of the presidency on the television
I have no stomach for politics

         democrats or republicans what did it matter

I was truly bipartisan
they were all corrupt egos
with the conscience of a snake
if they were not already crooked when they came in
their spines were tainted noodles
when they left

she asked me did they serve food here at this hour
but that was just another justification
for her late night presence
hunger

         but for what

I told her no
too late
she said she might go to taco bell
and I winced
and nodded
and got another beer
then another
another
and another
the empty mugs hit the bar
like ejected shotgun shell casings
I had an appetite

         but for what

the bartender called last call
and she finished her second beer and walked out
I drained mine
and followed her out
we were parked side by side
she drove a tired old pontiac
grey primer on the front passenger tire wall
I heard a voice say
and its strange
because it sounded exactly like mine
nasal and abused by alcohol and cigarettes
saying

         wanna go eat somewhere

I was not even hungry
and there was not any desire for her or anything
other
than another beer
in the warm slice of somewhere
no I have to go home
I heard her say

relieved
without losing stride
I got in my truck
shook it off as a passing goodnight
I have some cheap beer at my house
she mumbles
ten seconds later
magic words to a lonely
drunk heart
I followed her out to the highway
she had a tail light out
shaking my head at the intersection
questioning my motives
strictly boredom
a vanquished sense of something
or maybe
nothing
watching her
speed away when the light changed
running over the concrete median
in a miscalculated turn
that should have blown her tires out
but she drove on into the night
with me following her

wondering nothing
in particular
and everything in general
she ran off the road two more times
before we pulled down a potholed dirt road
and into the driveway of a mobile home
in sad disrepair
and we got out

when she opened the front door to her trailer
a wave of heat and sweat swept over me
I was aghast
there were bodies everywhere
in the dim darkness
on the floor
bodies in white underwear
cotton fruit of the looms
on closer inspection
they were children
twelve
ten
six
five years old
pale pasty skin
skinny elbows and knees
turning restlessly on a stained carpet
a fan blowing stale tepid air
across their hopeless dreams
I threaded my way carefully across
the sleeping battlefield
acutely aware I did not belong
in the company
of this much broken sorrow
thinking these children
did not know any different
this was their life
it touched a nerve in my soul
their father is a bum she told me
he left her and the children six months before
and he has not sent any money
and she did not know
what to do

I looked around at the meager furnishings
a dozen boxes of cheap cereal
old toys scattered around
photographs of the kids smiling long ago
she handed me a shlitz beer with an awkward silence
knowing
I was prying into her shallow attempt
to establish and maintain
some semblance of normalcy
for her young sleeping on the floor
a roach crawled across the ice box door
and she flicked it to death
easily with a dish towel
and started crying
I am their mother
first
second and last
she said
but I wanna life too

I nodded
sipped my beer
and
reached
for another cigarette
thinking
about
her husband
and
her four kids
sleeping
in
hot
misery
on
the
floor
then
I
got up
finished my beer
and told her

I had to go

from Bar Snatch

midnight madrigal on the month of march

when I think of her
I think of her in the morning
I think of her in the afternoon
I think of her
in the evening
in the night
late
when she is not here
I think of her on the couch
resting
I think of her on the table
legs
waiting
I think of her pulling her dress
up
I think of her showing me
her silk thong underwear
I think of her in between
the right and wrong words
thinking clumsy adjectives
caught
thinking tangled in her

my thoughts have me walking
across pins
got me
skipping over
needles
convinced
they can not hurt me
baby
really
they can not make me
look in the mirror
unless I want to see
what is behind me

and see we whisper because

late in the night there is shadows
in the room
and sometimes
the shadows seem to follow me
and it is then I think
it is her
it is her
cause she is always soft
when she is rubbing against me
she is always in touch
it could
be
her

          there in the shadows maybe

when I just wanted
crisp clean sentences
clear of pretenses
naked
as naked is
see
shaved
bare
and razor burned
stripped without concern
for mother
father
brother and son or daughter
leave your sister
alone
her laughter is disingenuous anyway

and what comes after
is a soliloquy of regrets
forgets
banquets
irish potatoes
blighted
and
left over from the plow
pulling weeds on a dead homestead
splattering the stage with tomatoes
kids sleeping over eating doritos and fritos
for breakfast
sucking sour cream and onion chips
from their teeth
dripping salsa dip on the carpet
white cheesy lips
legs crossed sipping coffee with rose hips
exploring brochures of hedonistic islands
naked cruise ships
and clothing optional laundry mats
and then she went back
to her
martha stewart magazine
her sunglasses
her novel
went back to her hat and the pool

I do not leave my dirty laundry laying out I told her
listen
if you have any doubt
then I  would suggest
a chest of drawers made of maple from the victorian age
for your guiled panties
maybe that would
change
your
mind

sit beside me dear
sit right here
oh
yeah
sit right
there
I wanted to tell you
about updike
when he signed my book in key west
that he did not write
and I told him the maid at the motel
stole his novel
s
and this book was all I had
and he smiled
like I knew
he would
and I never asked him what his name was
and he never asked me what
my name
was
either
and that was alright
with the both of us
we were strangers on a literary road
crossing paths
only

once in two lifetimes

from A Mere Miscellany of Midnight Madrigals

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beautiful
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outlined with luxurious lips
brilliant smooth cheekbones
her curving shoulders are both
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she lays her cheek against her shoulder
sitting on the edge of a bathtub
full
plump hips
back arched
thrusting her breasts forward
in a red sheer lace up teddy
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from Tonight We're Serving Insanity for Supper

love and lust

do not ever confuse the two
love
and
lust
there is an excellent chance
you might not recognize
love
if it comes
around
you might send it away with your own
private distractions
and regrettably
you might miss it
in the end
but
lust
is as accountable as an early morning
hard on
you think of it
when its there
but you will never
keep it for long
enjoy it
while it lasts
and for what it is worth
have faith
in your distinction
between
love
and
lust
do not ever confuse the two
love
will bring you
heartache
but
lust
will let you smoke a cigarette
and
sleep

when its all over

from Redundant Ruminations of a Hand Well Stroked

ninety seven miles an hour

mad tunes
on the radio
its my life
no doubt
wondering
has anybody
heard it
before
thinking
the wind is something
else
again
when
it
begins
blowing

dont you forget
its my life
its your life
mad
mad
tunes
in your ear
sleeping
three
doors down
and the wind
rain
in
my
ear

new music baby
new music is what
we
want
miles rolling into new miles
better as we go
mad tunes
in
my ear
on
the
radio
as
we
go
better go
away
miles rolling into new miles
come away
with
me

my new love

from Forgotten Notes from Nights of Ill Gotten Grandeur

in your underwear

my pen is
my strength
my pen is
my weapon
my pen is
my
ink
blood
life leaking out
my pen is
without a doubt
always hungry
for words
and passion
for big woman emotion
my pen is
in my hand
morning noon and night
my pen is
in my pocket
under lock and key
never soft for words
always searching for words
my pen is
in her lips
when she borrows it
knowing
my pen is
my weakness
the hoursmy pen is
my strength
my pen is
my weapon
my pen is
my
ink
blood
life leaking out
my pen is
without a doubt
always hungry
for words
and passion
for big woman emotion
my pen is
in my hand
morning noon and night
my pen is
in my pocket
under lock and key
never soft for words
always searching for words
my pen is
in her lips
when she borrows it
knowing
my pen is
my weakness
the hours

when she is around

from Sixty Nine Poems on a Sundog Day