Brand "X" , and ACME, poems and stories. Surreal, sappy, funny, horrific, and human.
In an anxious stepping dream, a scruffy old pup (three-legged) said "Thank you" into my ear as I held his hand on the stairs. Down a flight (in the waiting room), all of the seats were peopled with cutouts except one that held my brother, arisen. Thrice as real as the cutouts and more real... Continue Reading →
November is when cats die, in my experience. One from a seizure. Two from tiny hearts. They helped with Hallowe'en first, then left me to cry in doldrums of cold. *** image credit: http://www.stock.adobe.com
Once, within my hearing, and thinking himself alone, he said I wish I were dead. And I didn't man up to that. I god damn kept my hands in my pockets and shied away from his tortured road. And now, in my time of life, I see to it that things are kept clean, most... Continue Reading →
Was that house one of lies one of alcohol and fear Were there violences muffled by bedroom doors and punishments sealed by closet doors Gone without... gone without Come to me now Lay those ghosts in my hands Let us live for time is so short ~photo by Ben Gingell / Getty images
You know a Joe. Lots of us do. My Joe, well, he's got it bad. Back in the day, my Joe was kinda livin' the Dream. With a nice young wife, a good job that he liked, and, with it all, a beautiful little daughter growing up fast. A bit too fast. Young, impressionable, sullied... Continue Reading →
Cast your line into the soft static of six days from now. Feet up, warm cup, and let someone in. One who's been down. Yes, that's the one, my love.
Move on, we must. In boxes and bins, I carry my proxy love to the Stow-Away garage. Outside, the smirking cat has his wild bones on, drawing a bead on a tattered squirrel that curves down a dead-bowed limb. Night In the lush bush, there's something that laughs. Treed, in a frightful dream it lolls,... Continue Reading →
Kid I was when Dad got my nose showed how to take your thumb apart Oh, and the trick with the hats and cigarette butts How to worm a hook Bought a poetry book Must’ve seen my look Told me I must be a man Face the bullies Have a plan Double up that fist... Continue Reading →
Drawn to baby anythingsshe isSeeks to protectto nurtureBut if the thing growsand gains stubborn volitionthen on she must moveto find another small oneto teachto loveto know the duality of joyandtake tearful vengeanceon an old giant
I would make you smile but I can’t You want me to smile but I can’t Moods change in increments One step forward two back There’s another can’t- It’s the one about getting rid of crutches, just now.
AreMyFeetOffTheGround 