Funny Bone

I am touched by the
outpourings of concern for the
potency of my penis
that propagate in my
junk
file,
but these missives
are positing
a creeping paranoia
over my performance.
The offers are
premature,
I am not –
yet,
but their
crystal balls
see a safe bet
and they won’t curtail
their advances,
waiting for their
chance,
that fateful day
when I awake
forlorn,
limp, and
looking
to get things
cooking again

Birdbrain

There’s a finch
with a rusty red chest
carefully clinging
to the spinning,
wind-driven
feeder on
the deck,
an avian
amusement ride
providing
safflower
and thrills
for young birds
new in town,
eager to eat
and play around,
shrugging the
last of the cold
from tiny shoulders
in a gleeful
cacophony of
carefree chirping
and when the
sun sets,
they will sleep –
for that is all
they care to know.
I should be so, too,
but no,
I have such
thinking to think!
Much ado
about nothing.

Last Sunday of April

The last
gasping
breath
of ruthless winter
buffets the newborn leaves
of our long suffering mother maple.
Two summers ago
she lost a limb
to a villainous
summer wind
and now this.
Callous, bruising slaps
twist and turn her tender green cheeks
of unfurling life, the brutality of the
last vestige of cold as it rushes east,
raging at its forced exile,
without compassion,
lashing out to defile
the warmth of its
seasonal usurper.
To all of this
the robins
bear witness
and still
they sing –
as if it
means nothing.

Reaper

Too much idle time
attacks the mind
with endless realization
that you will die,
contemplating the how,
when, and why
you try
healthy eating
and exercise,
pumping nutrition
into the
big fat lie
you’re growing,
the one where
you survive
this crazy ride
unlike all the
others who tried.
The wise wrap
themselves tightly
in life,
passionately gliding
through busy days
until death is nothing
more than an
unexpected surprise

Brushstroke

What beauty
greater known
than a cardinal
midst the snow,
a point of grace
on cedar’s bough,
a crimson cloak
nature endowed,
quickly seen
then gone again
but the vision
lingers, and reigns
as hope, strong,
for he will return
ere-long

Wall Street

The city’s wallet
reeks of
illicit orgasms
squeezed in on
the way home to the
wife and kids
but the suit
that sits
on its shoulders
is golden,
integrity
folded
into crisp
pocket squares,
a daring
display of
patrician
plumage
that fools
too many as they
are shuffled toward
a mythical
land of plenty,
fattened calves
for the
gentry

Gangsta Word Nerd

I could crush you
with my poetry,
trust me,
but I’m too
lazy,
pissing away
my gift
on red wine
and Netflix,
no time
for sublime
words and
rhymes that
would leave
you blind,
my mind
far past
the sad
missives
of the masses –
behold this power
scratched out
in a quarter
of an hour!
DJ,
gimme a
beat,
all the
pretenders
retreat,
I’m the OG
on this street,
if you are careless
you will bleed

Ascension

There’s a throne
at the end
of the world,
placed at the
edge
of the
ledge
overlooking forever,
a keen-edged
broadsword
leans there
in royal repose
waiting to
sever
what looms behind,
those wounding ropes
that bind
and the lies
of what never was.
Only those that
dare to become
gods
have grasped
its hilt
while their selves
cried out,
“Wilt thou
cleave me asunder?”
And the thunder
crashed
as the blade sliced
and they became
as lightning,
exploding time,
infusing everything,
blissfully nothing,
just vague
memories
floating through
shadows,
drops of dew
on stained-glass
windows

A Trip Worth Making

A glorious place,
hand-painted
in the fabled green
of rolling Irish hillsides,
nothing but space
to roam,
to be alone
with the breeze
and tranquil thoughts
to carry furrowed brows
to crease-less ease.
A glorious place
indeed, walking free
with need
in absentia,
colorful flowers
smiling in sweet,
perfumed dementia,
all wrongs and hate
forgotten,
no hunger,
no down-trodden,
not a single thing
misbegotten.
Can such a place survive
anywhere but dreams?
It seems unlikely
while the insanity mill
mindlessly promotes
hate-filled beings.
But you can still go there,
follow the golden geese
and they will lead you,
inside yourself,
to that land called
Peace.