OF NATURE

found fading pages beneath debris
of woodlands wandered prepubescent

learned of lust from crumpled paper
women weathered by rain and sun

discarded image of unknown flesh
unblushing and naked but for leaves

peering up at unanswered urges
still shot smiles aiding friction

as beauty of faces on bodies in pink
show softness and curves unseen before

cool breeze reaches the warm wet sticky
hand of youth first touching sex

 

CADUCEUS COYOTE

Running half empty with a wrench in the engine,
the machine slows and falters at every new corner
where each bend finds errors and breaks in the structure.

Croaker walking heavy, up and down a weak ladder,
injects opiate coals to feed the spine-fire;
which runs from the tailbone to the base of my skull.

A rubber dam blocks a river of conductors
as the last electric ripples break the surface,
in pulsating rings that spread outward to fade.

Capsules become Babylonian bricks, building walls
that rise up into the sky; where digits grow extending,
to touch the ice of somber mountains bringing cool relief.

Foundation set deep in the dirt builds itself down,
like a spreading cancer that races to the earths core
where magma seals all cracks and polishes the surface.

A troll inside, smelling air that grows thin, learns to fear
suffocation; the new enemy marching slowly into reality,
steals oxygen through the rapid breathing of adversaries.

Outside a cripple sees freshly severed legs dancing,
as a motorized wheelchair outruns a pack of wild colts
to the glue factory, in hopes of compensation for their bones.

Vertebrae slithered from the body's restriction,
found a rock in the desert where they dried in the sun
to be snatched by a coyote marked with a caduceus.

Mundane secrets, of little concern to most,
tell us, laying perfectly still and unblinking
dulls pain and translates lies in stucco and cracks.

Now numb, left looking up at the ceiling, all I can do is laugh.

 

EEEYEP

hooded figure pacing
wears uneven shades
impure black shields
to cover neurosis
in motion from cluttered
head to nervous tapping toe

weaving through cattle
in shower clean fragrance
new day runs scattered
bringing warmth along with it
into fresh start freeze
selling souls on the rise
sunset to three is morning to one

no heads, no faces
just bodies and news
crosshatching aura
of grouch hysteria
evident swimming
in seas of scowl
here and there drifting
robots shut down
in tilt dragged under
by daily drone function
to slumber states nodding
all bow down before
nights true lord
sleep
hell bent on reclaiming
vulnerable minds
in need of

 

TRUE LAST CALL

too many people die alone
submerged in solitude
staring down at
the end
of a long-neck or a fifth

toasting to an empty room
full of those remembered

farewells feeling futile as
that wave good-bye to
your friend, who left
in a cab that's turned the corner

 

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