Boogie oogie oogie man
flashing, grinning,
dancing man
bearing teeth
gnashing, gnashing, gnawing meat

*****-y man
with your grin that holds ten thousand teeth
and your chin from which
red blood drips sticky and sweet

BOO!

Boogie oogie oogie,
Mr. Boogie man
Dance with limbs that
twist and bend
and snap and crack
and thwip and thwack

Snap--
your fingers, Mr. Boogie man!
And slap your thighs
And clap your hands
Won't you join me in this dance?

And won't you stroke my face?
And kiss my cheek?
And bite my neck?
And drink my red blood so sweet?

And won't you,
with your ten thousand teeth,
devour my heart
as you feast, feast feast...

Oh, Mr. Boogie oogie oogie man
Let us dance the night away!
Your broken fingers can hold my back
as my snapping bones
go thwack, thwack, thwack

And I'll wipe the blood from my eyes
And I'll wipe the tears from my heart
And we'll boogie oogie oogie
Til death lets me part

He and I
sat on his bedroom floor planting a garden last night,
silently hoping that something might sprout.
Because we can’t shake this drought and
the water is stagnant.
He knows, and I know that the new life we’ve sewn
will flourish and thrive
because to keep it alive is to follow
the recipe.
So there we were on the ground;
hand over water,
water over soil,
soil over seeds,
the very least they need
to blossom and grow.
That might be what we needed, a formula
to help us bloom in
the cover of the night,
a strong man with a green thumb to
clip our blighted leaves before we dried up
and blew away in the wind.

But he’s not a seed,
and I am not water.

So let us sit and dig
through the dirt spilling onto the floor
and implore this new life to burgeon.

life is a stone in a pond,
once
        we sink
                we never rise,

but the ripples of our life
       touch more than we know.

Struggling with this mind block.
Wasting my time staring at the clock..
Waiting for you to destroy that block.
That wall that's in front of the both of us, blocks the beautiful view, and yes I mean you.
With that wall in front of the both of us,
I see nothing but a dark view.

Am I in a dark room?
Or is it just my life without you?

I've been afraid of the dark since the day I've been out.
That's why I paint to make my world full of colorful lights.
But how can I paint when I got no paint?

Since the day you built that wall.. All I see is dark holes.
Empty..
Just like my soul.
So paint will you come back, and hold me to stop the pain?
I'm just here trying my best to climb that tall wall, waiting for your call before I fall..
I don't even know anymore who's stronger anymore.. Me the lion or that dark shark that's standing still..
Hard to climb..
Hard to leave behind.
I'll stop with the knocking and just sit there on that bench waiting for you to climb up and help me get through.

Hard to breathe cause you already took my lungs..
And it's hard to keep punching when you already feel the weakness in your knuckles from the first punch..

coyote yelping helps;
the winds, too, distract him
from the now

the Comanche who
put the arrow in his back
lays beside him

gone before him;
that is condign comfort
to him

he cannot speak, nor move
his tongue, but he smells the
*****, the creosote

he sees the clouds,
stingy white whiffs in a hot
summer sky

as good a day to die
as any he reckons, and
he feels no pain

again the yelping,
closer now -- are they talking
about him?

will they beat the buzzards
to his body? would they begin their
feast while his eyes are yet open?

he closes them; the flapping of
the wings does not arouse him--he
knows they are on the Comanche

beaks and talons at work
he lets himself drift, content the
vultures are choosing the dead

but they fly off; the coyote pack
approaches--the pads of their paws
patter on the hard caliche

he lets himself sleep
dreaming now of sweet green grass
and good water

and the coyotes begin their work:
the ***** and he now a solitary offering
for the ravenous dogs

eyes of ocean blue
grayed by darken skies cry rain
drown in flooding waves