Vizzitor

a fly danced

on the letters

at my fingertips

its moves made

me pause my own

it seemed to

revel in the

oiled keys

as it did 

as it pleased

it came to rest

above the asterisk 

to bathe its wings

and its eyes

then flew off

suddenly

such the way

of flies

Braindrops

a trickle 

from the ears

a sprinkle

from the nose

a light mist

from the eyes

as the storm

within brews

the turning 

twisted thoughts

funnel into 

a verbal downburst

and lays flat

all in the way

with the straight line

windy bellow

out the mouth

thus beware the signs

of braindrops

The bird

blackbird with his

robin blue smile

perched on the eave

of a house no

longer a home

his gluttonous grin

is the bow 

in the roof line

as the sky gleams

off the ocean depths

found in his feathers

his call 

the chill of night

dancing in his

malicious stare

as he writes ​out

his devious deeds

in the air with his beak

Ashen arms

you held me in
your bare arms
within gray skies
wet with vacant thoughts
and barren time
you held me
when there
was no more
need for tears
no longing
for lips to meet
no urge to
reach out
for touch
in pain or
in joy
as all the blood
had dried
all the air
had blown away
and vacancy
was our company

Dandies

let's wash our bodies

of this soot

that billows 

from our neighbor's fire

though we stand

confused and naked

in the growing grass

the spying sun

that filters through

the passing clouds

warms and dries us

she sips of you

and is tipsy too

when she tickles

with her velvet coat

I laugh and lose my cap

as it blows away in the wind

Minutes after midnight

those prophetic patterns
run deep in his soul
they climb through
the ladders of his DNA
and knock on his heart
in the minutes after
midnight
they point out
the young woman
who draws her dreams
on the sidewalk
for passersby to
tread upon
they indicate
the man
who waits by
the intersection
swallowing his smoke
as it his constant, yet only
friend
they single out
the laughing children
who will never be born
under soot cloud skies
that bleed what man has
made by destroying
what God has made
they turn to
the days beyond
thirsty lips of problems
the gnashing teeth of need
to days of silence
to days of depth
deeper than the images
caught in brief moments
when walking past
store windows
to seconds spent
as decades before
a setting sun that
won't surrender
to a suicidal slap
that breaks the shell
to be delivered
from this living hell
to wake up in those
minutes after midnight

Just the sip

sip of my cup

I have filled it for thee

please drown thine worries

upon thy bended knee

sip and sip again

from my shining chalice

surrender thine trembles

to my pleasure palace

quench your thirst

on my fountain for thee

I even have a cushion

for thy bended knee

come hither I plead

for thee to drink thine fill

lap up my sweet nectar

give in to my will

sip of my cup

it awaits your warm lips

please come and drink

before it spills or drips

April prayer

spare the salt shaker
oh lord

this spring has been

over seasoned

and your children

long to play in color

instead of sulk

in monochrome ice

we tire of the flake

we tire of the freeze

oh lord please

put down the salt shaker

let us see the reason

for this season

to bud, to bloom

to break free from sleep

and awake from wintry horror

to hear the little birds cheep

and the crickets squeak

spare us the crunch of snow

under tires and feet

EOS

thirty minutes
before the end
of a shift
is a pill taken
slowly
a dipping
of the toe
into a warm
soothing bath
the first steps
of a walk
through the woods
on a crisp
October eve
a harvest of
elderberries
and seeing the
wine in the small
dark violet
filled fruit