Saturday, July 24, 2010


I wish my Grandfather read
maybe he did,
but a suspicion as large as
a beached whale tells
me he didn't.

What a man he was!
five children and a miscarriage-
a salesman with a heart
of a solider and as heavy
as gold bars,

but worth so much more.

I wish he knew,
I wish they all knew
of the honor of the 30's
of the temptation,
of the sacrifice.

of the screaming
money worries of home.

what a man he was!
such a man with 2 brothers
better off,
sort of respected but not
the way he was.

he asked for nothing and took
what he was given and
paid dearly for it.

never asked for more then what
someone else thought he was worth,
finished grade 7,
hair white as angels, as snow,
by 18.

I wish he could of read Fante! He would of understood!
I wish i could pass him the book and together
over coffee we would have one of our
slow decoded conversations!

He made his choices and lived
proudly by them.

A man who alone could have done so much more,
so much better for himself!
traveled the world,
he could speak so easily to anyone
like a beached whale,
he stood by his decisions
and slowly died by them,
one eye staring at the sea behind him.
telling himself to believe
it was all worth giving up.

Monday, July 12, 2010

as old as god

and the sun set like a crying child
and in my apartment door way
she was spitting up her bones
onto the door mat, and sometimes hitting
the screen door

and the grass and the
trees and
the squirrels
and the cat
we all looked at her anxious expression
carved in mortar, broken like porcelain
volcanic in attitude

and the crying stopped, in time for
the stars to whisper me a little

advice from the universe
is so quiet sometimes-
so easy to mistake,

and i looked up and i looked down
and i noticed the same things,

those sparkly shining roses, dew on the
grass, stars in the sky

begging for an ending

Sunday, July 11, 2010

broken but not bbbbbrrookkeennn

we mimicked a battle -
the sorts where snow balls
melt in
your hand
and the grit and sand
pushes into your finger nails until
missions are

when winning,
is like having your car broken into
only for the change in the ashtray,

i kissed her neck for a few minutes
and re assured her
the whores are anything but
an inspiration

she kissed me back
the way
trees in her back yard shake off the rain
hours after everything else seems dry
drunk things from right now

sand castles

i'm pretty sure it's those
few years apart
that keep echoing
back and forth between us,
you want me to be a castle
but i'm nothing
more then the crest
of a wave
about to hit the shore-
a sudden rush
that explodes into
quick reminder
most of us change, sure
but its the ones
who cant
you should keep your eye on

we live once

why waste it on each other?
cat fight

she fills up
my glass with
ontario red
like tossing
coins into a wishing well
the cats
like a high school fist fight
at our feet
and one jumps onto
the bed
and the other
onto the organ,
back to the bed
and then outside,
she pours me
another glass of red
and asks
another question
i don't
want to
and we start to dance
like a bar fight
she jumps onto the bed
and pushes me into
the organ,
back to the bed
then outside
feed your friends

arriving home
at 1:19 am
from the out
of town
birthday party show
our band played
in the back
there is no note
from her
in the mailbox
or at the door,
but the black
was waiting
like an old steady friend,
infront of my front step
as if to say,
i noticed you were
even if no
one else

Monday, July 5, 2010

i would like to start over, please.

coffee from the
coffee chain
beside the apt
boils and gurgles
in my stomach
like a bank robbery
in progress
while behind the counter
girls take
frozen meat
frozen buns and bagged
and stack sandwiches together
like packing
boxes full of unwanted belongings
ready for the curb

"we're under new management'
the puke with the
name tag tells
while another after noon
quietly dies
as i spill
all over his