Thursday, December 30, 2010

behind us

padlock on a rusty gate,
table with candles,
candy and cake,
disappear behind abstract talk,
laughter loud and fake,

where do we go?
into the crowds or behind the curtain?
into the sound or behind the mind?
to rooms,
to beds,
to dreams,
ever seeking...

I am,
so many other places,
so many other parts.

Monday, December 20, 2010

death by shopping cart

shoppers salivate,
grab their angst,
and grind their teeth,
open the cattle gate,
tear in,
like a snowplow over a sewer grate,
meet the demand,
get the deal,
grab the boxes,
an old lady squeals,
"It's not like it was in the old days,
people were courteous and had respect for their elders!"

The place went silent,
you could hear an angel fart,
the old lady was dead,
run over by a shopping cart.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

this place

can I go away with you?
this place is cold and lonely,
my friends have gone,
they have been replaced by things,

can I come away with you?
this place is dark and I always feel sick here,
it's empty and there's no one to talk to,

can I tag along with you?
I hate coming home to this place,
to the deafening silence,
to these thoughts,
to these memories,

is there something I can do for you?
that might give me a reason,
a way,
to help me carry myself,
away from here?

...because I don't like this place.

Thursday, December 09, 2010


people on TV shout it,
politicians proclaim it,
teachers teach it,
preachers preach it,
coffee shop folk conspire it,
families pray it,
people at work avoid it,
people on the bus pontificate on it,
students argue about it,
some soldiers are convinced of it,
others aren't,

...but how can you be my enemy?

I don't even know you.

butter chicken

false teeth,
greasy comb,
leather pants,
dollar store cologne,
cheap motel,
cheaper bed,
bad whiskey leads to,
bad dreams,
about a bullet to the head,
cold days,
colder nights,
ever walk the streets alone?

ever check the coin slot on a parking lot pay phone?

pick up the flu,
from dirty dishes,
dirty hands,
ever feel like no one understands?

feeling sick,
but the clock keeps tickin'
stuck somewhere between,
a bleeding tattoo,
and a plate of butter chicken.

Sunday, December 05, 2010

tossing and turning

tosses and turns,
watches the clock,
tries to take stock,
but loses the memories in the clouds of thought,
one day blurs into the next,
moments strung together,
like a frayed rope,
hard to cope,
burning, craving, yearning,
known in youth,
but lost with age,
disappointment and despair,
disappearing into thin air,
calcified bones and a steady pain,
he dreams of being young again,
but he wakes into the early dawn,
a reluctant yawn,
outside the window,
a gentle snow falling,
a gentle voice calling,
from somewhere inside,
through so many years,
through so many miles,
"Time is now,"
...he smiles.


now a word from The Boss, dedicated to all you wanderers out there.
I was 11 when this song came out. Can you identify the actor that gets pulled onto the stage at the end of the video?

Wednesday, December 01, 2010

black city

black city,
breathes steam,
over greasy streets,
a dishwasher smokes a cigarette,
and watches cops drink coffee,
in an idling cruiser,
whores, junkies, bums,
united in their collective despair,
high rise lights,
throw yellow beams into the foggy air,
bus brakes hiss and pop,
street corner preacher starts from the top,
baby dreams to a Thelonious Monk tune,
a brokenhearted drunk,
mutters softly,
to a brokenhearted moon.


Get lots of pics for this blog from The caption with this photo read: "Father River Sims, a Catholic priest, right, speaks with a homeless man in San Francisco on Sunday, Nov. 21, 2010. Sims, a former sex worker who spends most nights handing out food, condoms, socks and needles, says, "I don't pay attention to what the pope says. Never Have. I've done needle exchange and condoms for years. I go by what people need."