Monthly Archives: January 2015
“Amidst a Whirlwind”
So my mind drifts to Her being disappointed, And she does strike me As some for whom nothing Will be good enough, . But maybe This is why I like her, Which is of course a problem, Summed up in and of itself and Microcosmic of life, As my thoughts now drift to The forest […]
“At Home”
Where Your very flesh Is cargo for the feasting, . People know There’s no Advancement for men, as After You pass Semantics and Religion, there Lies the ghetto, where There is religion, Where, they swear, Nothing ever happens, We didn’t see it.
“Ameliorate”
To me, wandering, She is a woman . And to the men up in the offices, She is a woman, . Which is why She’s always in a good mood.
“The Hip-Hop Nonet over the Sun”
On Any given Day, . They Could wake up with More love than you’ve ever Known, . And Shine it your way, whether you’re Ready or not.
“I Had to Go to the Other Side of Town”
The cabinet thrilled me like rolax, Now I see extremities in fingers. Any more bequeathing of tendrils Daunting and rhapsodical Might Send My vocal chords Strapping, as I pat A Pattern Against her, The social worker’s head.
“After Dropping out of the Waxing Sun”
It took me 46 minutes before I saw something I was interested in.
“Human Development”
The crooked limbs roam and rove, I can see them now going over the hill, Wondering, Looking down at themselves, Preparing up Ingredients of self-presentation That are like a song, All light arbitrary.
“Vision Quests, and the Naturally Vision Questing”
I still remember the exact moment when I realized that women were taking over the world. It was one of those summers, it was one of those LIVES, when so much happens around you without you noticing it — so many ghosts of the dead lie in droves under footsteps, women work with fair, delicate […]
“Circumstance”
In this poem, I’m writing directly to my late uncle I can see him now, His eyes Glow at me expectantly, But it’s An assurance too, That Just as Circumstance guides us, As it did the Irish away from the famine in the 1800’s, That with this matches a clean coherence That doesn’t discriminate.
“Wrong”
Erroneous is another word for wrong… And people who are wrong initiate motives to stop being wrong. . They’re Called artists, I knew one And she fled to The bus stop with less people, And then took a space ship out of this world.