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our neighbors would hate us

it was the moment
i felt the weight of you

that come hither look in your eyes

a crashing instant
when i contemplated
what we would be

we would make antony and cleopatra seem uncommitted

a passion so profound

it would negate my need for panties


i made the decision
not to want you
or the responsibility of your happiness

chose never to be the person
who complains you’re never around

and when you’re home don’t lift a finger

i never want to be your freshest regret


what a perfect disaster we would be


our neighbors would hate us


we would go to home depot

and choose to paint the bathroom an almost puce shade of armageddon

we would watch fatal attraction together and immediately run to ikea

for more lamps and cutlery


scratching vinyl to a screeching stop

speakers and clothing flying

through rattling windows


we’d brawl over a bourbon bottle

some june night

and threaten to cut each other

with the jagged pieces

of a kenny rogers and the first edition album


perpetually polar

fucking or fighting
either way it would be noisy

we would drive the sidewalk to drink

all the pearls in the world
would fall from their strands

we would tire of crying

you would invalidate my every previous love poem


our car would eternally be waiting to plunge

from an icy bridge

in the deep south


because i threatened to jump out and through the door open to puke

and you swerved trying to grab for my

drunk ass

because we’d love each other more than we had collective sense


there must be a heaven for that

poetry Uncategorized

the port of messina

ruins of the fortress smolder


she has been unchained from the tyrant

freed by howling liberators


all cease to hail

the master of bloody card tricks


he fails to find grace

or coins for his dead eyes

behind unfearing ears


the man who would kill the world sure in the notion

he was the sole heir

paraded backwards atop royal donkey

steam rising from his legend

he now knows the planet is round


she tosses her ring into the bottomless pit of him


grateful for life yet to be lived

her mind races to gather precious moments from the fire

optimism kindness mercy wisdom charity

all she has learned

placed into saint juliana’s reliquary head

carried in her saddle leather


gilded war horse mounted

her rosewood eyes survey the newly lost world

she follows the light upward

embers rise from collapsing thatched rooftops

becoming stars

as they reach azure firmament


around her neck

a rosary made for the christian messiah

silver crescent moon for allah

the seal of solomon

and a piece of amber for those who know

god is the sky


riding stick lashes across time

thunderously galloping

toward the gateway to the holy land

she seeks a new jerusalem


plumes of red and orange organza

silk and chiffon

explode from her stride

the dust remembering big bang theory

as she soars triumphant

towards a goodness

unlike any she has ever known


a place where tongues speak truth

hearts are brave and upright

so that any god may love them


surrounded by those

who have paid their prayer tax

she has made her own way

to the port of messina


behold the blue sea


cerulean wishing well


and the possibility

of a heaven

that will decide

what becomes of us

poetry Uncategorized

london underground

my words


trying to avoid

Grub Street


perhaps a futile endeavor


how the Moorfields

draw us back


it’s so easy

not to think


we are water

and follow

the path of least



juicy rationalizations

plucked as grapes

off waiting vines


is it better to be a thug

than a thief?


why be either?


is there anyone left who measures honor?



i would prefer that

to being

a hack


i take out

my subway map