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Art beauty physics religious studies rituals romance

ornate fictions

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Poof* Take MY water

https://youtu.be/eg2Kw1jIXOw

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Uncategorized

That’s my kid up there!

I’ve adopted

a son at work

who still lives at home

in my cubicle.

He has a shock of dark hair

that follows him like a storm cloud.

He teaches music.

He plays in a coupla bands.

He’s a good dad.

He borrows my nail polish

& asks me to braid

the nimbus of his hair.

He’s a badass rocker.

He has that ancient magic,

voodoo child guitarist,

maestro.

But the day he said

you’ve been a better mom to me

than my own,

because I offered to mail an envelope…

he became mine.

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For Nairb Eeryt

the moment you turned & walked into the room

my world went Peckinpah

explosions of laughter

and parking garage lore

you are the unlikeliest surprise

a penultimate friendship

my war horse riding brother

charging beside me off

to our generation’s wars

in armor made from James Joyce t-shirts

imagine my uncorked shock

to meet a lion experimental

unmormon poseidon

over-the-rhine renaissance

gypsy king

this day is your birthday

you sit back all Kerouac

this day is for breaking someone else’s heart

so stick around

i’m gonna read this poem out loud to you from a stage

my next gig in town

& there’s a band I wanna go see with you

every tomorrow night

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Uncategorized

rom-com

they

were never meant to be

a short story

with all the phil collins music

that implies

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activism Americana art astronomy baseball writing beauty belief death desserts divinity fairy tales iconography muse mythology poetic theory pop culture punk Uncategorized

vigil

you are a book

i have kept open

in dimmest candlelight

long past

the reason of midnight

Categories
Americana Music punk

festival seating

my morning after

concert purse

contained torn ticket stubs

my fake id

a backstage pass

when backstage ass was how they hoped it would go

a real set of keys someone ask me to hold

a cigar ring label

a stranger used to propose

a guy’s number back when your rolodex was made of beer scented hope

a matchbook

though i was never cool enough to smoke

the sturm and drang

of a drummer gone mad

a safety pin that was my bra’s last prayer

mists of angst risen off

the first 50 rows

it’s the end of the world

& all i want is to go

to a dirty spit messy fuck

loud as god

rock and roll show

 

 

 

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Uncategorized

we never had paris

his oxfords stroll down
piano key sidewalks
stepping to quarter notes
noir film
thoughts smoldering
behind him in cigarette smoke
and i think
in another life
we would have fallen in love
during wartime

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art astronomy fairy tales family happiness history love Music poetry Uncategorized

trying to throw your arms around the world

U2 is spinning on the turntable

achtung, baby

arguably their best album

trying to throw my arms your arms around the world

as i sort through my life

purging

packing

moving on to this next chapter

having raised boys into men

clearing the detritus

of four lifetimes

of mistakes

losses

victories

regrets

hearts broken

hearts mended

lessons learned

love found

all this living done

and tomorrow night

stars will find a way

to fill the sky

Categories
poetry

the stars look very different today

it’s not enough for me

to mourn David Bowie

as a musician

an artist

an actor

or as a kind human being

i mourn the transformative effect

he had on generations

i mourn him as an intellectual

as a voracious reader

a thinker

capable of making art

of his own death

.

how graceful

.

a man

who could be

a beautiful woman when he wished to

.

i mourn him as a man

who gave the conventional

the finger

and then asked,

“Where’s the glitter?”