Crossing

harmony
The solitary spectral figure
gliding smoothly
across the plane of sea,
validated the woman’s faith
in her blunt decision
to leave off,
unfinished,
far from the unlit days
of a life unsown.
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Valentine

Bucket-List-Write-In-Wet-Cement-Uncustomary-Art-3
At the fringes of his bucket list,
on his very last pour, he honored
the small bright birds buried in his heart
for his first love, his ailing mom,
who, in her fading twilight,
could tenderly absorb the valentine
immortalized on the sidewalk
in front of the house
where she had grown up.
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Existential Makeover

number-14-gray

Between Bardo realms,
he found John Cage
composing birth sonatas
to the cellular din
of Dalmatians squabbling
with  Rorschach supermodels.
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Autumn in New York (Remix)

autumn-rhythm
On the day
October exploded
over the city,
an entire month
spilling its guts
to the grafitti of mass agitation,
the trains stopped running,
streets went dark,
hobgoblins rose to the occasion,
as did cryptic totems and obelisks
which suddenly lined the concrete canyons,
and people everywhere froze,
staring into the whorling heart
of a tempest
that made autumn in New York
a thing of the future.
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Disquiet

220px-The_Disquieting_Muses
They, the profane muses,
Laurel and Hardy at a voodoo head-shop,
serve as pillared repositories
for the lasting remains
of mortal disquiet.
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The Young Nocturnes

Photo May 30, 3 20 03 PM
Los Angeles, late 80s, the club scene.
Jenny, Kirstie, Amanda, Trink, and Connor: The Young Nocturnes.
Glamboyant youth at the razor’s edge between waking and dreaming.
Stay tuned.
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Girl

wem_ghost_fire
Shrouded in white fire,
barred from true exit,
she, a marvelous
and fearful shudder,
is torn mysteriously
from dreams rounded
by the sleep of babes
fitted to gallows.
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Summer Song

Walter the ice cream man
At the edge of a remote island,
(sirens in the distance)
modeling jigsaw scars, cracked veins,
and an oily sheen,
a fast fade dream, a scorched mirage,
occurs every evening like clockwork.
Walter, jangling his bell, shouting:
Good Humor Man, Good Humor Man,
pauses on the corner for Lacy,
who comes running down the street,
feet on fire, shrieking: Strawberry Shortcake,
Strawberry Shortcake;
this old man and
this young girl
resounding the gospel
of summer’s paradise
found.
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Worn

subway II
In transit,
and in stillness,
station by station,
one chance moment
out of a million and one lost,
we see love, in a precious tangle,
a flaccid melt,
and we renew ourselves
through the rumpled means
of lives unmade
to be tenderly worn.

 

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Venus Infers

Screen Shot 2012-09-24 at 4.39.20 AM
Withholding, with intent,
for so very  very long,
the mouth like moth to flame
engaged the key to its lock,
while the eyes watched her lover,
bearing the scripted burn,
drop to his knees,
modeling a biblical take on
crush.
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