Everlasting Fast
Good morning.
Your church
is toast.
Your religion
is jelly.
Your salvation
is scrambled.
And still
you pray
for coffee.
Ginseng Hysteria
The root of all egress,
a blessed cure for stress,
time-honored equalizer,
realized, baptized upsizer,
and upscale jones of choice,
I raise my ginseng voice!
A good name for a daughter,
and taken best with water,
my memory’s restored;
my stomach’s like a board.
I hoard it like a treasure.
It’s multiplied my leisure.
I’ve grown an extra wing.
I love you, dear ginseng.
I spread the word in classes.
I’ve given up eyeglasses.
I read it in I Ching:
become one with ginseng.
Minute Neuter
I’m just a gypsy barnacle,
searching for a rock
to lie on, to die on,
as the water laps my days.
Encrusted on this old routine,
I spend my time alone and
thinking, "suction…suction."
How soon the moment comes
for me to loosen and get battered
is just another secret of the sun.
How warm this shell has been,
how cold the sea.
Relative Gloaming
Distance pointed.
On its head
it wore a mountain.
And its hair looked like clouds.
Distance beckoned.
I wanted to run right over
and hug it.
But the closer I got,
the more it pulled away.
Its hand, a large tree
waved goodbye.
Long distance relationships
require adjusted parameters.
That night I swore
I heard a star cry.
Illuminated Chargecard
It’s a cold world, but the lights work
and the trains don’t run on time.
And there’s no hope but a taut rope
for a man not in his prime.
Four of ten men on a dark street
are just waiting on a crime.
Some will kill you for a quarter,
some’ll love you for a dime.
And I say charge it all to Jesus.
Put it on the master’s card.
He said to live a life of love,
but it’s just too damned hard.
Our visions of a world above
are cracked and bent and scarred.
So play your hand, dispatch, disband,
dispel and then discard.