Fossiliferous stallion, speckled stone steed grazing on dust, you are the color of rock, gray, yellowed. Tiny bones buried in your skin, crinoids and brachiopods, tabulate coral. You are the carboniferous ocean floor, astride swimming hooves, hardened by land, rain and rock sediment poured through…

Like music Sometimes the space between the beat Contains the rhythm A cup only functions When it is empty A box filled Is just a cube Without guidance Without structure A movement becomes a mob A garden tangled overgrowth To order is not to impose…

They held hands, Long walks in the evening, Played in the park, Rode swings together, One could hear her giggles clearly, Loud and innocent, For years it continued, He was her best friend, And one day, She saw them together,   Looking at the mirror…

Find the one Who dances with your demons Instead of someone Who creates them

a mort is a fellow whose colored bright yellow he sports a loud bellow and drinks limoncello he sits on my porch with his liquor and borscht and scorches my visitors with a blowtorch

My Dog I love my dog He is a black dog He is very young I love my dog I play with my dog He has a nice collar I love my dog He is a good dog He has a brown tail I love…

Hands brush over Tired skin Rushing to hold Wrapping tight Cradling close Whispers of reassurances The only thing heard

  wood-fires stoke her hair, she is autumn in every toss of head; every sprightly patter of feet, each embrace, every hug, any delightful time we meet.

I long for a sense of direction Navigating this never-ending haze Too often faced with the misconception That I know my way out of this maze Who I am supposed to be They say it is up to me Yet it doesn’t seem to be…

I remember you and your bustling vibrancy! Energy, like nothing else in the whole world. Creative consciousness wired in a hive mind. That’s you, New York, and I still love you!