Flying Vaccuum

Lo mein the brain, sleep is missing

Medulla beaten, lube the lobes

With spicy wine or mash distilled

She dreams of vacuums, my one true love

Row of ducks, Electrolux

We’re separated by train tracks passing

Shorter, shorter; Here I come.

Caveman Heist

Borrowed art from the caveman

Nothing new is ever new

We draw on walls, repeat the legends

A whale, a penis doesn’t matter

The story told is in the telling

Minstrels to metal, it strikes a chord

We’ve known the tune since Adam’s apple

Highs and lows dress the forte

Outline life, fill in the blanks

Lost Homework

Sweep the leg, you know you cheated

No one does their homework now

You’ll plagarize or cook the books

Jam a needle, pop a pill

Work, you know, is for the oaf class

Dessert is dinner, it’s all for pie.

The War Room

Loyal pixels, I do command you

March to eyeballs form your colors

Each alone inert, unbiased

Corralled together, you rule the world

Drunk on power, your fury twinkles

Fomenting change in every portal

Nodes of nothing, you’ve no idea

The world once fought with ink & arrows

Now its red, green, blue.

Of Loins and Outrage

Jaundiced sideshow of howling daydreams
hanging, kicking from the rafters
of my skull, on fraying sash cord
faded feelings hide in dented lockers
gossip ghouls cannot be sated
rummage, raiding, resurrecting
wadded lines of impure motives
teen demands of love and ass
All we had were loins and outrage
pimples, carpools still remain.

False Redeemers

Popcorn savior, grail of plastic
Whose Messiah shall we rent today?
Your bar code faith expired Sunday
Coupons clipped for discount dogma
Past due dates on dented pastors
Hark! A sale on Grace.
Your shopping cart is pushed by Satan
Junk food souls on TV trays
Bottles bought on cash deposit
Only they find real redemption.

Lefty Lament

Busted bongo, hippie silenced
His herbal welshing days are done
Tofu mouse maze ends in failure
Eulogies by wind chime, true
Birkenstocks smell of earnest
Lefty newsprint, left on porch
Peeling purple paint a landmark
Revolution to committee vote.

The Reapers Telegram

I sent my boredom a telegram
Composed of tequila and origami
Paper godzillas level my funk
The howitzers of adult responsibility
Lay dormant and cold, out of use
Pointless tasks call the reaper
Faster, faster my days are gone
My waterfall cares nothing ever
For daily whims and human woe
It simply moves the water
From mountain pack to distant sea.

Listing Lazy

Hunkered down in rainy day showers
Listing lazy with poetry and donuts
Would Bukowski find comfort in a brolly?
Doubtful.
Dusty pawn will not open today
A gentle snooze puts me in check
Camel saddle ottoman, viking blanket
Morris chair nest, my soul at ease.

The Godfather (pt.1)

Sequined spirit washed in spotlights
The funk, it trembles in his wake
Flashing teeth above twisted cape
Driving all the beats before him
Trombones lashed to mast of rhythm
He dares your feet to hold their grasp
We knew him then, we know him now
The Godfather, his Soul to keep.

Unlit

Under the lampshade, they cultivate failure
A thousand cigarettes lost to the match
Stories unveiled, memories to renovate
A legend passed to the last leaning stool
The untended jukebox panders for quarters
A linoleum sheriff is leaking with woe
Our glasses bubble among fibs and illusions
We gently construct a shadow for taming
A lost wish, it dangles limply on kite string
Drifting, murmuring; a night to forget

The Sentinel of Pacifica.

Customers with sandy feet
Place your order at the window
Taco Bell, the wooden sentinel
Neptune's drive-in
Soft tacos served with surf
The conquest is complete.

Pincers

These are the hot dog days,
natural, less studied
whose calculated misbehavior
is a picture of true boys
crowd into the back seats
feet that make toe-dancing
sleeping porches, scrambled eggs
pork chops and pincers,
a moat, a throne
gone to the circus
and certified the clowns.

Wanderings, Paths

opportunity of witnessing
eyes of faith
miracle of belief
fantastic world, sacred
filled with singular details
shrewd humor
the mysteries, so many touching.

Pan-Seared Mortar

though simple and artless,
correct and almost uncouth,
doubtless sought to imitate
notoriety, ordinary incidents
barbarous epochs, vague rumors.

Yellow Jersey of the Self

Once,
when I thought all was pointless
i was was passed
in the street
by a singing, one-legged
bike messenger

Sometimes,
you just need
to get on and
pedal.