You keep all my secrets… My personal confidant. Unafraid to always be the one to strike the conversation. My better half.

Now, now, blue-brown Rest and give a low-down on how Red-yellow gave you a show-down   Blue-brown behave It is insane Trying to be brave When blood and pus Oozes from innate   Skin and veins cut open Red-yellow’s free Sun tans Water and air…

i found three jars on the side of the road such a mystery to me one evening quite by accident my eyes just happened to see one filled with tomatoes as if someone had canned one with elbow macaroni maybe two or three hands and…

In the first rays of day, the rooster stirs, restless. He grumbles a bit about the slow rise of the sun before he begins to crow. The rooster is angry all day because he never calls as loudly as he wishes, and he knows the…

Born of fires Child of earthen wombs. The much married Virgin. She married five men. Yet she stood alone. Blood for her tresses. Passion her throne. She still fends for herself. Beseeching only the divine. The lipstick under her burkha She still claims her rights…

Metamorphosis I drove out to the desert one cold and moonlit night in December, testing the theory of animals speaking human tongues at midnight Christmas Eve. My whimsy taught me far older wisdom, plunged into a deeper past than my Christian forebears could ever willingly…

I won’t look, no, ‘fraid I can’t My eyes will stay focused on the black dots Which stack together just perfectly into little lines All code All code I won’t look, no, ‘fraid I can’t I have a problem of opinion Others get the best…

A spider winces in pain none Its eight legs Splayed and bent as parachute raises it above all things grounded.   It hurries hither thither hence but finds its corner and rests in contemplation webbed in dreams   Its head is heavy with thoughts concrete…

poem#13 my world without you I try to imagine a world without sun it is easier than you think for that would be my world without you nothing would grow lush green only scales and prickly leaves would crunch beneath my feet at daybreak there…

The old car sits in the front It rusts, matching the yellow Surely meant to be Never mind a new car Or new paint The old car sits in the front Where it should always be It’s an anchor point As is the old kettle…