The Poetry Marathon

(another untitled for Candyce)

She is foundation
A time traveler
A “gotcha” wrapped in an “I told you so” wrapped in “WTF”
She ain’t the least bit funny
And she’s fucking hilarious
She is the solution when
you didn’t know there was a problem
She is the assignment understood
Ella es tarde con agave
She is doing the most with never enough
Hi. I’m never enough…
But she said she’ll keep me
A precious as I keep her

Bigfoot has
never requested
your approval

Digital Rush or Lit Games Nocturne or Ode To The Poetry Marathoners

Stanza and verse
Under big waning moon
Accompanied by 4AM music box
of crickets vs interstate vs railroad vs neighborhood
Yawning from a tired hurting face
Having seen one more emergency room than he had ever hoped
Feeling better enough
To write a marathon
To pull art from self and shitty sinuses
Yes we signed and dreamed up for this
Played prompts close to the vest
Ignored their pleas for release until the appointed hour
And some even had the nerve
To get all “meta” about it
While swimming a sea of digital ink
And a scope in their ear
(Or was that just me)
In a month were superstars set records
around or under ten seconds on a stadium track
I plod mental streets with verses
Aimed at coliseum finish line
Now who’s finishing with me?

(untitled)

The monster under
the bed has bigger issues
than your delusions

Uniform Corruption

All of the deeds witnessed
We took pictures and oaths of truth
Wanted freedom to need of freedom
Was confronted by the devil
A cunning fellow disguised as overseer
Chance that we would be seen being pushed
To the road to hell with savage intent…
Talk to my lawyer

(Inspired by “The Charade” by D’Angelo & Kendra Foster)

Palm Reader

Your hands in mine,
I read the future
that your fingers will grow to fit

These lines tell stories
of tricycle races, all-nighters for D’s, first elections,
heartbreak, sleep-filled days and eclipses

Live this scavenger hunt
of tests and treasures
The map is in your hands
Grab it and run

Stranger Than

Like a displaced deer
down the middle
Of as residential street
Of industrialized city
At late morning
In a pandemic-
…Unusual.

That is to say
It was less mind-bending
Than the politicos
Telling their constituents
That science was merely
A suggestion

Rudy Shops Chicago For His Candidate

It was as if
Satan escorted the future
to the record store
And walked right past me
Giving me, briefly
The choices of
Infamy or freedom
As I stood closer
Than the security detail
Of a traveling mayor
Of America’s largest city
Where, certainly
I would be a hero to few
Even if all I were to hurl
Was profanity

Sky

So much empty
Yet so many glints
Of timespace
Of time’s pace
That your place in it is barely
molecular
Yet unique
Ironic is how difficult
To express either extreme
and 8 billion beings
Each contemplating
In their own orbit

Big Bad City

The shots erupt across
a typical evening
Of dog walking
Jumping rope
Barbecuing
Singing into fans out of windows
Arguing
Cheering at the game
Gardening
Being
And everyone scatters
Ducks beneath window pane
Grabbing kids grabbing adults
All because high tension criminals
And their enemies
Also like nice neighborhoods