Hour 3–Before Darkness

Neighborhood gloaming

jars memory of lightning bugs

when jars were glass

and lightning captured

by clever boys

navigating summer

Hour 2–Lawrence


haunts me like a ghost welcome to my psyche our home away from homelessness

the beach at Ma’alaea uncivilized

no place for mai tai’s

Rather home to broken things washed ashore

Like families and boogie boards and memories looking for repair

like poets aspiring to acceptance


“Who will stand here with me in the circle

in full testimony to all and hug me? I mean a real hug, full body.”

Faces avoided

Tim declined

As did someone else

I stood

I’ll hug you Lawrence you know I will

The privilege is mine

I moved myself to the center to join him

Opened myself

A small act I felt

his medication coursing coarsing rattling he trembled

his neck hooked mine and we hugged suspended from whatever chemical catastrophe

a life concocted

he trembled

let’s leave his demons out of this

a man once boy asking to be comforted

two hearts nearly touching separated by a prison tattoo

finally calmed

I’m with him still there in the circle

myself restored



Hour One

Nightshift at the construction site

Old road reconfigured straightened improved

No street lights in this bumpkin district

Civilization under construction

Pitch black frontage

A spooky sound ancient

Lizard brain working

A sound in the dark

Muffled rhythmic

clopping on fresh asphalt

From the north

Flashlight broken

Moving in my direction down the road

What pale rider this way comes?

What meaning?

My pea brain painted a probable

Stable down the road

A horse had thrown its rider

Was returning home like a cow to its stall



Slow and steady

Eerie my cat’s eye accustomed to dark watched the white flank move past

No rider No saddle

No street lights in this bumpkin district

Not this year

Horsepower receding to the south

Returning home

Making way for cars






Technically challenged

Just testing this thing-a-ma-bob to confirm that I remember how to post poems when the time comes. Greetings and Aloha to one and all…

Hour 24–Sleep

My head is heavy truly

from sacrificing words

The spewing made me dizzy

Feeling untowards

I need a day, nay two

to find a new perspective

I’m presently inclined

toward horizontal restive

A pillow and my CPAP

are all that I require

Good night to all I say, I do

I’m ready to retire…








Hour 21–Possum

It was naptime

I jumped around my room

until I heard Mom coming up the stairs

I dove into bed and properly covered up

She entered and stood by the bed silently

This makes no sense to me now, but as a kid

I had been told an important truth:

People stop breathing when they sleep

To complete the ruse and get away with it

I lay there motionless

The tiniest of breaths moving in and out

my face positioned strategically toward the wall

She had to believe I was asleep

I tortured myself in the ploy

Mom played her role with dead silence

and waited while her gullible boy

played possum



Hour 20–Return

last moments on Earth

this is what Norm heard


earphones speaking to the space between ears

unconscious they said

morphine finally earning its pay

buoyed on fluid energy

worn vessel releases its hold

rising in Nature

music found in the space between stars

the opposite of alone





Hour 18–In Proverbium

Early to bed

early to rise

makes a regrettable mud in your eyes

Empty unwinding finding

I’m no good at solitary confinement

I don’t like the company