“dreams don’t care”

looking for three different things in one pair of hands

i’m given a chance to become ringed

yelling in the alley eyeing cigarette butts
mistaking my fun for theirs

the click and clack of my boots was unbearable 

i ran up the ladder, i spotted her swing 

she’s taken my roller skates on top of the pinto and is pirouetting 

peering up at the tall and elegant windows of the lucky

your gaze and figure lit only by the street below

jump down baby 

i shoved my fists in my pockets and clenched em up tight 

singular sun

seeing us in a slow orbital dance
i am the sun of course
radiating hard as is my being 
and in the dark as she falls toward me
i see how to be purple, striped, cool, ringed
of a piece 
with grace born of reflection
and past she goes, consumed again in black
and i’m left to just my flaring
to wait the eons for transformation 
to count the months til she swings by
knowing if we merged now i’d only consume her

erato

you light this crystal wood and copper dream room 
with voice of golden evening
stage lights reveal that old familiar face 
but you are transformed 

the girl picking petals from her scarf
the girl who had me in her closet
right where she wanted
where i wanted
til the fear wriggled me free regardless

reappearing now
you've watched them strollin hands down the promenade
you've watched them strut and cluck round the yard
and round the world a few times over
sundown here to a sunup there

pulled all the strands of streamers
left lying in the cobblestone dawn
weaved them with the voices of the night's joy
that collected in your throat, begging to be sung

did the road grant you this gift?
to patrol the morning
to extract the odes
must be you had it always
and i didn't know the incantation
to be given audience

but i am now
5 dollars at the door
a steal
grateful i get to do you this service and collect the cover
rather than pay it

it's really more simple than all this though
you grew your hair to put the wind through
you went into the wind
and were lifted

when you got that glow

this tender abdomen
of anticipation
curls bootstraps for pulling
to flee to or from

in crisp sun
presently presents a smirk
not a gasp

touch me tears or fingertips
make a determination
before the straps snap
the glow dims 
the will is stilled

the sleeping giant

when i was a boy
the pre dawn was so foreboding 
my mind a candle who’s light
i tried to hide as not to wake the world
the sleeping giant, my captor
who hadn’t yet revealed its intentions 

alone in a room amongst the paused lawns
nothing to anticipate but pop tarts
the cold bus, the pledge
shuffling amongst the kids
secure in their smiles and directions 

now i’m a man and i guess
i’ve come through the other side of something 
the pre dawn is mine 
i gather my quiet, fan my candle 
guess at what gentle mysteries
the day could bring unscheduled
i look out over the sleeping giant
who turned out to be a friend
who’d grant my leave anytime 

unannounced

hard to knock soft on heaven's door
slow-mo smile of my good-hearted friend
and here come the waterworks

can't put them guns in the ground deep enough
if mama was even here

but this knocking
what, and pierce the airy tranquility
of the other side?
shouldn't they be expecting me?

wear kneepads

i'm told by my old friend that i'm a good guy
except when i go on my "ego trips"
IE draw the curtain that conceals me
to look the slasher in the eye

and i'll be the first to admit i can get carried away
but if you don't see it comes from the right place
then we must agree to disagree

been thinking of how KV sings
there was a time in my life when they thought i was all talk
i can recall that, and let it lie
i'll do what's in front of me and move on
if you're on this road behind, you may find it
if you're on the parallel road looking over to assess
you're about to rear-end somebody

i don't plan to trip, ego or otherwise
i don't intend to scrape my knees and spend 
midlife on the sidewalk waiting for ma

last exit for lobotomies

in historically uncharacteristic calm and optimism
driving past the psych hospital en route to work
i had the urge to pull in

serenity ensnares and life has shown me
if you feel good, something is wrong

up airport road, that was the last exit for rehabilitation
so i continue east toward this fiery sunrise
that could birth me, consume me
or just turn into a monday

after all, my head's clear, my breath's clear 
and i'll be at my desk in five
if i tried to commit myself
they'd laugh me out the lobby

on a sunday

emerge from actual full night's sleep
debut the flannel jammie pants 
that miraculously match my GnR shirt
nobody home 
but coffee's already made
room temperate and all devices charged
no headache, tongue feels normal
many plates spinning harmonious outside these walls
season finale qeued up

is this all it takes for me to give thanks?
TGIS

it stoned me

the other day i got stoned in my soul 
never been high on life before
though i was hungover, so

and all the easy words 
like walk, lay, shades, breath, earth, crane
trickled over me like cool water
warmed by desert sun as it
ran down my skin 

then a flash of grief
begging it to remain
then acceptance 
then what's next 

will surely also awe 
drop, slither, braid and dissipate 
and so on 

buddha buddies

bodhi see what's needed and provide
no more, no less
you know the hungry ghosts because you are one
you see their screams singe visible through the sky

but then you watch them rise
and mingle with the heavens
that's the difference

police academy

there may be a cop 
round every corner
waiting to tell you
what you are

so hold your breath deep
lest he hear you
and the movie ends 
in a montage of 
enemies dancing together 

we don't take kindly to strangers 

go on, get (the shrimp song)

appears i've cast a wide net
hard to negotiate the ins and outs
always on, except when called upon

but that's how it is when you catch
a free trip to new orleans 
to stay in grand hotels

that creole gal to help you
come out of your shell
is on the clock like all of us

doing what she may 
to feed her young
and maybe hear the show from the back

her poor mama and papa
ain't heard from her yet
shed a tear each time they think
how they said go on, get

as you will

heart so full to breaking  
sleeping as we're waking
don't let it spill 

hit the breaks and call er 
change the bulb and holler
avoid the kill

say goodbye to ma and pa
schedule you're last hoorah
or flush her pills

think he's a keeper
then don't fear the reaper 
it's as you will

yonder treetop

when i see the treetop mist way yonder
i know life is larger than us 
i'd like to be
where most what I see
is not harvested, bound, numbered and stickered
we used to know a language 
no study required
the cars pass unceasing 
as the mountain mists is waiting

Rambo II

when i was like moocow age
i looked at my dad and wondered 
why he wasn't rambo 
was instead leaning over the kitchen sink in his underwear
eating some kind of bread 
gazing over his modest back lawn 

i was disappointed i guess and without an answer
this morning in the darkness though
as i use dad's unmistakable arms 
to methodically fill the filter basket
and hear him snore behind me
i posit something 
he just didn't want to kill people and yell unintelligibly

but it happened anyway 
and hey, neither did rambo
maybe your fate's your fate
maybe the harder you speed the other way
the more certain you are to miss the turnoff 
and circle back

now pants

that's a future thing though
this right now thing is just this right now thing
the pants you're wearing are the only pants
borne the brush of a boggy creek
threadworn right pocket from three phones
in three times as many years
guarding the spider veins of year 33
as they always have
lifting legs into the final two thirds 
heavy enough with the dirt of youth
to keep you from floating away
they're your now pants
don't spill your drink on em