Without a fridge The sun was her preservationist   Without a bathroom The family did it in the open   Without a microwave oven Cold meal was a religion   Coal-pot cooker was a luxury Its glow embers kept her cold at bay But not…

The rusty old piano sits there Years of disuse Centuries of neglect

Across the room, a relic stands It has many a year The tunes of generations’ bands Heard by many an ear Played by a man, up in his time He’s seen and heard it all Requests are grand, critiques are few From open to last…

Can you hear that? oh la’… oh la’… As the piano key speaks. Can you hear that? Oh la’… oh la’… As the melody creak. All were from the narrow road, Now haunted, Not wanted. Can you hear that? The eerie sound as I speak,…

To swim in your eyes is the desire, perhaps the pathway to your heart is way too crowded.

shattered busted torn and twisted warped burned infested and rotted alone decaying into the earth again

Freedom ain’t never been a land you see Where we landed the sea Barely sown or reaped Never handed down cheap Blood soaked and creeped Mr Hughes show warned us That place was never the place it seemed Selling and crushing dreams Even from its…

100 years ago/from now nothing ever changes The patriarchs slash and burn reaping where they do now sow Laying innocents upon their unholy altars And only bones remain from the frenzied feast of fragile men who hate and lust never sated never abated

years and years later, a neon lit cheerful looking museum enshrines,  memories- silver and black faded  photos of human faces; preserved in their emotional intensity. a careful study for all to  observe and consume. purple flowing rivers, black dahlias blooming in crystals, simulated fifth dimensional…

THE PIANO  . . . MANN-E-QUIN   He’s listening. Hands at his side. The piano plays – for him. Only him.   It’s been over 100 years. He stays and listens. Through storms. And fine weather.   Who knows him? Who will remember? He and…