Saturday, April 22, 2017

Subway Ballet


choreographed
without words
by shifting eyes
in transit trance
no relief
compete for seats
while the stoic critic
prefers to stand

a musical chairs
of quiet despair
revolves all around
better
to treat the seats
like Caesar’s crown
and thrice refuse
to sit down


Friday, April 14, 2017

Playground Sneak


the stealth Dad,
trespassing
for children’s play
one eye over shoulder,
a gentle touch at the gate

dusk
cuts into afternoon
shepherd the young onward
through drizzle
and the quizzing eyes
of legitimate residents

outlaw father
stepping softly
across alien space,
a small price to pay
and will gladly pay again


Friday, April 7, 2017

Cloud Language


spy the sultry dusk
billows,
an intimate ceiling
burning paths
for living dreams

thank with a knowing wink
that cloud cover,
letting us hunt
in that first light
without a burning glare

eyes wide to drink it in,
that beauty that makes us mad
and forever fleeting,
made with water in air



Saturday, April 1, 2017

The Sunlight Iron Flash Muses


the heat of spring
brings the office people outside
brisk walk
to hide our wandering eyes
as the city aligns
to sight the sunning flesh

such fleeting seconds
stitch together the patch-quilt
of our day,
and fuel us
through carnal night
when our real work
is done


Saturday, March 25, 2017

First Bite of Spring


The first bite of Spring
is the cool chill
that doesn’t sting,
is spying the last piece
of melting snow
with a smile and a wink.

The first bite of Spring
is to smell the coming bloom,
to see that slight blur
of color that promises
to unfurl.

To drink in the Spring
is to tread that dangerous place,
and yearn to soak it all in
before it burns our face.


Saturday, March 18, 2017

Warrior at the Bulk Discount Club


some solitude
amid the bustling shoppers,
rain-spattered, unshaven,
somehow proud
cart-pusher
cubicle sharecropper

weaving past
old and young,
dodging evidence
of decline
to get the provisioning
done

focused
like a beast of prey,
bringing the kill home
to start the day


Saturday, March 11, 2017

Rebellion of the Cluttered Mind Warp


submission grows slowly
without time to think
numbed with the circus
our gossip
and drink

rancid workthink
bleeds into leisure time
these precious hours
somehow no longer mine

and thus
the chase for daily bread
cascades the worry
in a dreamer’s head

but lo and behold
with such lust to lash out
and take hold of that lightening
to bring real life about