fear of fails will chafe yr idle safe


fear of fails will clasp yr shutters closed

but when all else  goes

Go chance yr best yesses

Before the time lapses

Before time is too still

Before it’s too still


February 28, 2017


She goes shy of the very shadows;

completely infused  in first section hard-copy news,

She peruses  column  leads,

Refusing all  too-sad reads.

Usually  my  views.


So sure you got some guy here who’s seriously shy

To fill skies with a gloom-jam  just eye-jabbed in.

It  can  kill a  guy.

But the goo you stand up against and

The two tons of blue mood  you face

Too often.   Too fierce  to soften & go.

This man here could not just stand there,

I know.



She can’t relate

To the cinema  I saw so late

She says they blur  more black  than white.

She says they end not..just not right.


June 28, 2016

I’ve had a bad rhyme

A  sour note

I was not remotely awake

When I had the prime of my years.

The  ones  now  are  worn.


I’ve made a dull matinee idol

A dreary ticket draw

I’ve been not nearly awake

I’d shied away my fears

The near ones now are warm


April 12, 2016

“Mock  Crash  Unfolds”

Made an edit

For a column lead-in

And something to scan

While we gentlemen wait

For counsel

At the bank

Older gentlemen of a certain age

Encouragedly unemployed now

The headlines heralded some rescue drill

Trained Emergency people

Acted out on some sunnier afternoon


When every windy day

We’re over there to the cemetery

When wind chimes sing  from a tree

This  is  Melissa



When friends fade

(Yet, the few you let love you).

When one’s forced to infer

Another gone/next connection

Immense  with interference

Then,  It’s  fierce

When friends fade



You sure yr future dreams come mourning don’t manifest doubtful?

What you want can’t cum out full

As sure as your shy shouts ain’t heard

You’re frightened you mighten  give up on promise.

But never your word.





It might have been  one long neon light

In the laundromat that set her off

When it flickered & popped

Everyone up late

Our eyes were hypnotized some

All bets were off

On what might happen

She was the first to go

To distract us from our books & hand-machines,

Pull us from our puzzles, also  our magazines

Her  saying all that nonsense  fouled by fire

Interrupted that late night scene

Her calling names out

All intense, her pleas

We stared some  & stuck out someone’d stop her

Her call to fallen reveries

Her own  effin reveries











October 31, 2015

It’s a fact

I think

The shadows have been acting up

Their glint fulgurates   My way

On the very very side


Me  away from  whatever

It clearly demanded

My attention


I always turn my head


October 31, 2015


twist a knob on the dash

Adjust the width on the hole on the window

Just so you might  read the road’s edge

Roll down yr window, fold down yr sleeves

For this hour  at least

Fueled with guts & grace

Not to get caught  in that dead-end place

Through  too late darknesses

(onto too early empty dawns)

On to one Firecolors promise

Of  one  sunrise





,                             (image “Dark Place III” / Georgia O’Keefe)

this time, in this dream,

when I would finally leave

a party of mostly faces

and partly too costly embraces,

on a porch out back

I see a swirl of charcoal

an  act

of black air

over our fields





(from 2009)

That Novel/Habit Threat

August 24, 2015

There’s this effing coughing guy.

Coughing his damn fool sick muccoused  head.

He’s right behind me.

I’d bet half the health insurance check I’ll need

He’ll reject  deflecting all that sick  and

No manners to lift up that handy hefty hand.

He keeps coughing, this jerk,

&  me with three hours  of work

&  then I’m free,  or start to be.

When I reach my  muy  private beach…

Known for its   internal tune up  sun

Its eternal straightline horizon


Three hours and It’s a Go

Leave this stress that  god I know

This thing with cough  just threatens  “No”


I know well to bet on this novel/Habit threat.