Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

fifth & mercy st.

our lady of perpetual sorrow
hear my prayer
as my need is great

it’s thursday night
there’s a bottle of wild turkey
pleading the fifth
on the night stand

lou reed is singing about berlin
from a warehouse in brooklyn

grant me strength

as i have one more night to spend
fighting the good fight
inside the devil’s head

before a flight back to sanity tomorrow

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

janus smiles

the first morning of the new year
demands i take stock
of all my travels
around the sun
as janus smiles to a rolling stones song
even he agrees moonlight mile
is the best deep cut ever

i tell the old roman
this i know
the better a man wears a hat
the more fucked up he is
and he laughs

let me see
there’s the useless blue-eyed poet
who knocked me up at half-time
during a drunken super bowl
on a year my team wasn’t even playing

and the swaggering dick
who used to be a rock star
now living as a woman
except he can’t pull off androgyny
cuz he’s not beautiful like bowie
so it boils down
to old new jersey housewife

then there’s the one
who saw me run
screaming through the stained glass
of his victorian mansion’s door
saying fuck all
to white dresses and heavy yolks
sailing to greece
eight nights of channukah gifts
on top of my silly gentile christmas
and little italian sports cars
when he asked
if i would be willing to have
an organic vegan holistic
all natural drug free hoodoovoodoo
unshaved doula
chakra chakra
sanskrit wheat grass
water birth

oh my god no no no no

and california…
we don’t speak of what died in california
or his beautiful black eyes…

it’s somehow enough
that the man i truly want
but will never destroy with my love
occasionally gets drunk enough
to think of my face
in the middle of a tune
and long and long and long

i think it’s supposed to happen another way
but the older i get
the harder i bang my head
to a good song

to hell with it all

my hands are throwing
the whole shit load bag of bricks
down in a ditch


i’m starting a garage band

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

thank god it’s christmas

this is the night
i must forgive you

not for your sake
or mine

i’m endeavoring to do this
for my sons

they don’t deserve
to have their mother destroyed
a woman laid to waste by poisonous contempt
numbed with bourbon and burning stakes

but see
i know you won’t get that
a mother loving her sons
and i’m sorry
it seems to be causing you a bit of trouble

but i’m tired of mourning you

i have somehow become
your unmarked grave

i dig deep
i dig so fucking deep
nails scraping dirt and jagged stones thrown
to remember

your sweetest
words spoken

to make me smile
in the darkest hours
whenever i was full of agony
distance or fear

even in mid-July
especially in mid-July

bright side ironic
you would say,

“Thank god it’s Christmas, eh?”

yeah, baby

thank god it’s christmas

i wish you endless peace

now i can walk away