there's a stranger sleeping on my shoulder
on this lonely overnight bus ride
to Atlanta

***** blond hair pulled back
into a loose and messy bun
cheeks obscured by the faux fur
of an oversized white-as-snow winter coat

i've given up on sleep

i can't help but wish you were here instead
that you drifted to sleep while we shared
earbuds and listened to rambling songs
as our fingers traced calligraphy tattoos
across each other's knuckles and we
huddled together for warmth

i'd glance over as you smiled in your sleep
and press my lips to the crest of your head
and as the sun rose and cast its gaze on our
little band of troubadours and
you gave out a warbling yawn i'd say
let me be the first to
cordially welcome you to Georgia

her boots have canyons in the seams
loose stitching comes undone until
it seems that the very fabric holding
the rubber and canvas together
will fracture like an unreliable narrator's
stream of consciousness
fragments of unreality

they will fall by the wayside
hand-me-downs to those
less fortunate and she'll
select a new set
to wear thin

some people swap shoes readily
bedazzled with glitter or emblazoned
with images of intergalactic wars or
Winnie the Pooh caricatures
characterizing our oscillating
personalities and whimsical fancies

i wear the same
beat-to-**** pair
each and every day
i feel at home when
my soles sink into
the warm embrace
of entangled laces
regardless of
where i roam

gigs at local venues
beach excursions after dark
vegan cafés
craft coffee bars
cramped classrooms
both teacher and student
i may wear many hats
but my sneakers remain

interminable

they say death is but
the next great adventure
i'm not certain i believe it
but i'll wear these vans to
my casket just in case

the mid-morning fog
cloaks the traveler
in a thick mist
a musk of weather-beaten
leather cloaks soft skin
a fragrant vagrant
wandering in the warmth
of a dawning star

she stops and
stares now and
again
a lingering smile on
her face, her eyes
twinkling with equal parts
mischief and grace

an exuberant jubilee of
far-flung soliloquies
enhance her reddened hair
and her rosy cheeks
as she slips quietly
through the cobbled streets

until a flower
small but fair
pokes its way through a
crack
she stoops and ponders
for a moment
whether she might take it

then climbs once more
to hardened feet as
a smile tugs at her cheeks
she leaves the flower
in peace not
in pieces
who knows
who might need it

still she sojourns on
a wayward adventurer
with no destination
save the secret joy of
knowing and being known
by a world she adores

the memories play on shuffle in
the back of my cerebral cortex
drifting like a drug up
and down my spine
intoxicating
stop-and-go
out of touch
intermittent illusions and
misrememberances

pomegranate lingers
on my tongue
sandpaper tiles rest
beneath knobby knees
soft flesh against my palms
glasses askew in passion
the stickiness of sweat
fingers still soaked from
forays into your wet warmth

inhabiting a cluster of moments from a
dozen different angles to dizzying
effect until i lose track of reality and
spiral into some intermediate realm of
consciousness where fact and fiction
are permanently merged into
one irreversible entity

a piece of you
is in every
letter
a momentary
stutter of an
amorous stupor
produces a rhythm
for me to flow
back into you

scratch poems onto
parchment with
ink and pen
or with my
fingers flirting furtively
across your skin

i carve them in
like calligraphy tattoos
and lay them to rest with
gentle kisses that
give you gooseflesh
and make you curl
your spine as
your eyes roll back
and you invoke
the divine  
that's just fine
because in this
polysyllabic string
of words and images
i am god

a pleasure of elation
growing
somewhere deep inside
bursts with
not-so-quiet
ecstasy so
come
under my spell
beguiled by my charms

what am i to do
if you're susceptible
to flattery that flushes
your skin like cherry blossoms
burgeoning in fertile fragility
can i be forgiven for
following my bliss in
iterations of thought
that might serve as
temporary kisses
touching the *****
palpitating in your breast
as i imagine laying down
to rest with you pressed
tight against my chest to
fight off the emptiness

if this tongue's simple rhyming
makes you blush
imagine how you'd quake
if you let it touch your lust

so give in to sin
when i knock on your door
don't be hesitant
lay anxiety by the wayside
open up
let me in

let your fingers slip beneath
the lace obfuscating your
forbidden fruit and pluck along
the strings to this tune
thinking how i'd savor the sweet
juices leaking from enflamed flesh
turning from pink to red to
soaking wet and saturated

i think thou doth protest too much

let your mouth go dry
as your breath catches in your throat
peel back the gauzy veil  
enter the most holy of holies
the sole authentic steeple
use your fingers to speak
in sign language
languid gestures of affection
come inside now don't be shy

bite back your tongue
hold on to your objections
this isn't some conjecture
or feigned misdirection

breathe
sharp
quick
light
just
let
go
i

think it would be best if you
forget about the fears and
latent thoughts that flow
and in this instance just let
go so you can explore
yourself the way
i wish i could every night

with lips pressed
indiscriminately
i'd climb the
mountains of your vertebrae
and find a home in the buxom valley
between the twin hilltops
of your chest
howling like a wolf as
i admire your waning
crescent moon

it's not too late to
disrupt the peace
that leeches
all our joy

in case you didn't notice
i'm just making this up
as i go along
does that turn you on

can i watch you
spontaneously combust
panting shaking wet
i can see your face as
you clench down
on your jaw and
bite back a soft groan
and try to run from
what you're feeling

but
love
fear is your
adversary
not me

don't fight me on this
gorgeous
i don't aim to be
misunderstood
the cadence of your
****** is generating a
fragrance i can taste
on my tongue
even from here
go numb

succumb

in Sunday school
Mr. McKinney taught me
god punished Pharaoh
for refusing when
Moses pleaded
let my people go but

Exodus 9:12 insists it
was god himself who
hardened Pharaoh's heart
like erosion turns stone to rock

which strikes me as
rather petulant behavior
displayed invariably within
vindictive vicissitudes

but what else
would you expect from a
megalomaniacal misogynist
prayed to by bigots and
rapists and racists

**** Yahweh

most days i daydream of
traipsing past New Zealand streams
hopping from stones as the rivers
rush past beneath our feet
walking on water like deities

in my mind we play tag like children
in the streets of Venice
criss-crossing over a myriad of
bridges interwoven like fabric
threads in an awning tapestry

and i take your photograph as
you extend your index and middle
fingers in the universal sign of
everlasting peace and smirk out of
the corner of your mouth the way you do
when you know i'm looking

the sun-kissed snow would fall in drifts
in the Swiss Alps as a chill wind numbed our skin
and the mid-morning breeze played with our hair
and we sang songs that echoed
through canyons carved by Father Time
and Mother Nature's scandalous romance

or maybe we'd just stand within the Guggenheim
sheltered from the elements
our fingers interlocked as we wordlessly  
studied the museum's latest exhibition
and you'd rest your head on my shoulder
as you traced the Deathly Hallows
etched into my wrist with
your fingertips and you'd
be the first to break the silence

i wonder what the artist was thinking
when he shot this black and white image
do you think the shadow in the lower left
means something significant or is it
just a trick of the light

and we would stand
statuesque at the foot
of sepia photographs
two additional installations
of artwork