old scratch

a green eyed demon
whose left eye would twitch
before he lied or smiled
once took a photograph of me
held in place by him
standing on the andy warhol bridge
in pittsburgh

all who have seen it
claim that i appear in the image
as a perfect
stained glass visage
of the madonna

(child held within)

my flowing dark hair
blue grey blouse
the way my head is
tucked into the beast’s shoulder
my face calm
a peaceful yielding to the thing
an act of complete faith

above a confluence of river beds

soon thereafter
i noticed
milk soured
and flowers died near him

i was saved by
divine providence

i’ve collected knives
and rosary beads
ever since

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

i hated myself at the time

you must know
i was only capable of loving you
because i hated myself at the time

who in their right would choose a yolk
of unjustified mistrust
and mutilation

i threw everything you ever gave me
off the terwelleger bridge
into the little miami river
drunk and laughing
at 3 o’clock in the morning

a fetid dump wasn’t good enough
that shit needed to see the ocean again

but i kept two things

a photo album you gave me
all pictures of you
kissing pictures of me

to remind myself that i did matter
i did have worth and always will

the face of evil must be remembered
to better warn the other villagers

and a copy of the only honest poem you ever wrote

three days after bloody sheets and hands
as two rivers converged in pittsburgh

“lift your cup to this immortal passing
this child of ours who will not every cry
then no tear is shed without love lasting”

that’s the only thing you ever did
that i don’t hate you for

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

you should have jumped

it was lying in wait
behind the locked bottom drawer
in my antique roll top desk

how many years it has hidden i’m unsure
waiting for a thorough spring cleaning

al green was behind me singing
let’s stay together
during the scene

a picture of us
standing on a yellow bridge
in pittsburgh

white panama wearing
green eyes staring
straight into the camera content
showing no teeth
never the teeth
it would reveal too much

me leaning into you
head beneath your chin
my delicate chiffon
safely held in your arms
gazing into blue river waters
that had not yet forgotten the sea

as though you were my savior

and i
your long suffering mary magdalene

so trusting

bad pimp and unwilling prostitute

the only thing you have in common with god
is that you aren’t real

i held that fucking picture in my hand
saying aloud to my photographed self

you should have jumped

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

don’t look down

we were in august covered pittsburgh
full of love
and the finest kentucky wine and cheese
feet weary from exploring a city
with bridges leading to andy warhol
and an endless somewhere

they were the whitest hotel sheets
i’ve every made love on

neither one of us aware of the baby
it was too soon to even suppose
about careless nights the month before

but when he placed his bloody hand
on my hair draped pillow
he began to scream
oh god baby
oh god
oh god
that color red
i didn’t know
i didn’t know
i didn’t know
don’t look down
don’t touch your nightgown
come here

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

sure i was in pittsburgh

woke up this morning
sure i was in pittsburgh
strange bed
my ass hurt
in love and
bleeding from something
the sky was looking for the sea
and the rivers outside my hotel room window
were beneath a bridge fucking