Monday, May 18, 2020

Close to Close

"We lost you there", the nurse whispered.
Took his bite then his breath,
as rain buries sunshine.

Crystal lauded in exalted tones
of mystics describing transports
of bodies flooded with Holy Spirit.
Daybreak hunting mushrooms in wet grass
and the soft musk of soaked leaves...

Fair is fair, like ecstasy and death.
He touched both and knew mysteries.
Poets plying wordsmithies never
sing sweet as birds at sunset.

Close to close,
they cut off his clothes
before they burned
him to powder
fine as Crystal.

Saturday, May 16, 2020


Every ray of Sun brushes me
with the lustful warmth
of an erect prick.
Love bursts from heaven
and bathes me in gold fire.

I am this world, idol of it all.
Unwritten name on
every book's cover,
idolatry be damned.

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

The Snow Maiden

To freeze or bleed to death is the same.
One cedes to warmth as life ebbs away.

The Snow Maiden
culls gelid hearts.

Her breath intoxicates,
hangover unceasing.

She is a pitiless elation.

*"Siberia does not believe in tears."
** "Tears, like breath, tinkle to ground in bits of ice."

Saturday, March 28, 2020

Ovid at Sea

My step wise to every rise
in the cobblestones of Rome.
I stumbled at Julia's backdoor
and Rumor whispered
my name in August ears.

Careful to hush His Ganymedes
and legacies He forced
  His offspring to suffer,
Augustus hurled thunderbolts
   from Olympus.

Verses my fame, now my Lake Trasimene!

Women of Rome,
How can I live without you?
Your tales, smiles,
tails, and scents Mnemosyne
cannot resuscitate.

Inauspicious undulation of the Sea...
my gut sinks, but not so low
as my heart.

Friday, March 20, 2020

Death is Noble, Dying Ignoble

Life abhors the dying
and honors death.
The living hasten
their span of breath
into ground or urn
and call it rest.

Dying lust,
feral and unseemly,
honors life in greedily
rasping its last gust.

Proud life scorns to draw a breath
and welcomes the firm grip of death.

Thursday, March 05, 2020


Orange cones, barbwire, and signs mark the terminus,
streets barren as salted earth.
No rustle of footsteps, murmur of voices, or crisp flutter
of birds in flight. The drone of electricity and motors gone.
The hollow city stretches like skeletal remains of a mythical giant
for miles. Haven't touched another hand or face for months.

When the contagion spread black wings over the city
it disdained to take me. My wife and two children lasted two months.
I still have pictures. I've built palaces for them in dream.

When the military came to cordon off the city they didn't
bother rescuing survivors because, I imagine, they suspected
we carried contagion or were in league with it.
Probably made up a name for us like "Viral Terrorists".

Run into others at least twice a week. I keep my distance, avoid
eye contact, and dare not speak. I resent other survivors more than my
own survival.
Down to three cans of soup, two boxes of cereal, and five water bottles.
Each day brings fainter whispers of miracle.

I hate this life. I fear losing myself and memories of those I love more.

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Sobriety Cruise Lines

The boats are all sober.
Passengers drink sweet cocktails
on disinfected decks,
Redskins dead or fronting Casinos
for Western Capital.
Endless green seas stretch
under gray heaven.

The cash boxes and
prison ships have won.
Arthur hails from
the virgin page,
"Smash them!"
Nobody hears
over the calm drone
of gray-green
above and below.

Friday, February 21, 2020

Grave Solace

The Dead know our hearts.
They can list every
lie and insult calmly.
This is their Heaven and Hell.
Every betrayal murmurs
so as not to disturb

Liberation is theirs.
No longer must they live with us.

Take solace.
The day comes when we'll
know living hearts
just like them.

Tuesday, January 14, 2020


Blue skies and blades of grass,
Rising seas and yellow leaves,
Exquisite as the scaffold
and tyrant's severed head.

Thursday, January 09, 2020

The Hulks

  I'm never the shipwreck,
    but ever the wreckage
    Lyre like lungs sails
       plucked by tides
       and sea monsters

    Bones rotting wood
      dismantled by the
     vale of briny tears
  From these depths
  the Sun wanes pale
   as an unreachable
     pill promising


Friday, January 03, 2020


Shackled in shame behind the Sun,
thoughts ripened
by everlasting night
and set on vengeance,
He returns from exile.

He craves
all living flesh
that mocks Him.

His hunger never sated.
No rest until,
belly bursting,
splitting a grin,
everything taken,
proudly He leans back
pruning the masticated.