Saturday, June 24, 2017

Lone Wolf in Manhattan

stop to realize
I have become
a walking relic,
a tie-wearing man
in an open-collar world

where eunuchs grow beards
and women lean in
when they should stand

where savages
are taken for scholars
and beauty and art
is measured in dollars

but I smile widely
as I spot the sharp eyes
of my growing tribe
and refuse
to live a lie

Saturday, June 10, 2017

Simmering Summer Song

baked in a flush rage
the bright heat
pounding fists
from above and below
blast-furnace breeze
finds us
even among the trees

in plain sight
a sun-glass spy
avoiding the light
a self-styled wolf
stalking prey
that always gets away

we know our roles
as sun-touched souls
holding the line
until North winds
have their time

Saturday, June 3, 2017

August Night

the music played
a sweaty, drunken romp;
a random gathering
on forgotten benches
as cabs careened
up 6th Avenue

kissing to the white noise
that was Friday night’s anarchy,
the Village sang for us
and sent us on our way