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Tear Down Nation

by | Dec 6, 2017 | Poem

Some of the molding surrounding this world
is now horribly chipped and turning grey.
Time has come for some renunciation.
Much beauty has flown, seeds no longer sown.
Seems participants are on vacation.
The dust of all that’s passed will surely last
until it’s swept away, and even then,
some hangers-on will still insist to stay
to be part of history’s striation.
The aim of reconstruction’s future dreams
is oft to thwart destruction’s aged schemes.
The days are passing, cast toward rising seas.
But infrastructure’s down upon its knees.
It’s at the breaking point. Time help us, please.

Living Space . (1999)

by | Dec 5, 2017 | Poem

So your children live in huts
and disappear for days.
At least you have your health
(Occasionally)
And a good working relationship
With a nearby pharmacist.

So your dreams involve the death
Of earmarked insensates.
At least you have cool shoes
(Check for footprints)
And a viable subway system.

So you’ve been to Jupiter
And found it not so great.
At least you had time off
(For mere behavior)
And now your diary
Smells like stars.

Slashes Everywhere

by | Dec 5, 2017 | Poem

You duck walk like a North Korean,
Earlene insists, humorlessly.
Tomorrow we’ll be selling
all my Chuck Berry records.
We’ve only been on meth two weeks
and already there are slashes everywhere,
the couch, the shades, the freaking
coffee table. My shirt. Her high tops.
Next week we’ll hock the jewelry
lifted from her mother’s bureau,
maybe buy some cans of soup
with our week’s supply, get ready
for wrecked teeth. My face is splotchy.
And, for all our closeness,
I never even look at hers.

dedication to hydration

by | Dec 4, 2017 | Poem

when i’m watered i feel like a flower
i even drink when i am in the shower
two cups of H2O in every hour
i’m like a steamboat runnin’ paddle power
i’ve got a gallon challenge on a bet
i drink more water than a household pet
i’m just not happy when my throat’s not wet
but please don’t hit me with that water jet