a crumpled milk carton
discarded...fallen
in the gutter, another
black and white photograph

a tooth fairy smile-
something missing,..

a coldness
from the shuttered window
in the shadows
of a quiet day
...Xavier doesn't play here anymore.

r ~ 8/17/14

18 is a hard age
to be black
and dead

tear-gas in our eyes
burns, baby, burns.

r ~ 8/14/14

Those things these hands have held
gently -textured care-
tactile curiosities
life's measure

A small, blue bird's egg
broken -sadly-
mocking nature's symmetry

Ice
cold -cold-
water making shape

A stone arrow point
sharp still -old-
black as death

My mother's hand
warm -caring-
now long gone

A small dog
wiggling -happy-
nipping, licking fingers

A woman
smooth -soft-
curving heat

My son
my son, my son -my son-
now grown, love unmeasurable

A coin
gold -only-
worth little

Those things these hands have held
measured -treasured-
memorized
lifelines.

r ~ 8/12/14

Sister hums a hymn
  Along the cyprus way
Down by the Camp F fence
  For him she goes to pray
For whom the lights will dim
  A dead man sings today
Angola's ****** anthem
  And Sister hums a hymn.

r ~ 8/11/14

Night and fog
setting in-unsettling
now that the rain has stopped

the live oak in the dark
creaks under the weight
of dying limbs

mean high tide
at three a.m.
means no ghosts will walk
ashore

U-227 lies on the bottom
not too far out from here
where she went down
in the nacht und nebel
while the live oak creaked
and the ocean roared.

r ~ 8/10/14

I fell in love with a girl
again, at a bar
My friend said she was Czech
Hard to say
I didn't ask for her passport,
and she had nowhere to carry one
She smiled when she glanced my way
eyes glazed, speaking my language
The Czech girl, making love to a pole.

r ~ 8/9/14