Weeknight in Hell’s Kitchen

Down the dark avenues

where footsteps fall off of crowded curbs

to scuttle past the slow flesh night life,

the neon punctuates

roiling twighlight.

The pastel dusk

is our emperor,

ordering us to sweet sin

that tastes better

with the ghosts of old crimes.

Let us lapse

into madness

drunk on laughter

with old friends.

Let this all

fall out of favor

so these streets

will be our secret

again.

Seamless Cycle of Affirmative Madness

On track,

new life born

in rampant mind songs

mouthed out

like silent Rosary

at the chaotic streets

On point,

bringing new love

to lonely wanderers

who see beauty

in every calf and cobblestone

and weep

On time,

for all of time,

that light

that flash of knowledge

sending every sultry sinner

singing in crazed demonic joy

sparking new life

for those new needy souls

Happy Quotidian Murder Story

one small step

can snuff  a whole day

cast a dark pall

every which way

churn with nervous burn

while stomach butterflies

struggle to keep pace

whiff of death air

permeates everywhere

when sufficed to stay

at one’s own station

it’s the glory of breakage

the carnage of liberation

that makes the most

of life’s celebration

Clarion Call of the Solstice Saints

laughter

to cut through

curls of sweet smoke

all-day wine glasses

stand sentry

to convening

of old friends

sultry spring night

as Earth turns to slumber

and

we burn

our candles

on both ends

blazing nightlife

glorious

with maniacal laughter

cascading

in knowing cackles

until morning comes

to say good-bye

Alien Elite

No need to let

the freak flag fly;

the deadliest of men

stride by in bow ties.

Ladies replete

with bared skin and ink,

lethal beauty

that drives men to drink.

No fearful tales

cloud our minds,

no lies to sow misery

can bind our kind.

Hands too busy doing

to clasp in prayer.

Don’t promise us Heaven;

we’ve made ours here.