Friday, March 16, 2018

Coffee Run



alone
on a workday hooky walk
away from the stifling desk
out and about
breathing in
the rambling New York stew

a plastic bucket drummer
fills a park
with magic beats

French-speaking tourists
shuffle by
on shoe-sore feet

spy the people
plodding on
drink in the sight of them
and then
move along

bank these visions
for later
for day dreaming
on stalled subway trains
modest joy
in the lonely life
again



Friday, March 9, 2018

Mad Life Fever Check



Lone wolf squad of one
preying
in the slumber of the sun

raging daughters
with more fight than sleep
tiptoe through the darkness
in a mad poet’s creep

our night becomes morning
as we feed on the blue light
joyful
with the rest of the world
out of sight

right in our minds
with wild dreaming fever
our job
to drive mad
and be our dreams’ keepers


Friday, March 2, 2018

Covert Poets of the Cubicle Empire



Covert poets of the cubicle empire
hearts aglow with soulful wildfire
stealing seconds and minutes
to keep themselves sane
amid the mind-melting workday
that gets in the way.

Secret scribbles
and sketchers of dreams
ride the blue night
sewn up in memory’s seams

We mouth the right words
our uniforms stay
but our souls still sour
in the true poets’ way

Our secrets are kept
within some kind of trust
as most of the bosses
wish they were us