I've run a thousand miles at least.
Am I running to or from I wonder?
Am I chasing youth? Do I run from years?
I run from promises I made and I run
to lovers to make more pinky swears.
I will run until I die inside your heart.

The sun whispers me awake
from a dream with you naked
nowhere to be but make love
the whole day long. We call in sick.
Who needs the rest of the world
we have ourselves to ourselves.

Naked burned in my memory
I draw your beauty perfectly.
You ask if I would stay Sunday
Times crossword we will play.
Wake Monday sleet grey day.
Cash only when I leave to pay.

"I love you"
"****"
"I quit"
"Don't worry
it will fit"
"I promise
it won't hurt"
"Forever"
"I want a divorce"
"You don't understand"
"She gets me"
"I'm sorry"
"It's not you"
"It's me"

I just want to go home
  and die in peace alone.
  In my bed and pillows,
  not the sterile gallows.
  My Quincy cat will purr.
  I give treats. I hold her.
  She sees me with one eye
  and purrs loudly as I die.

Mail us c/o the Bar.
          We'll be sure to get it.
          Closest thing to family
          we've ever known.
          We're nervous wrecks
          self medicating staying
          steady as the Titanic.
          We cry in our beers
          confess all our sins
          drink our own tears.

I'm drunk enough to drink
a toast to my own demise
no fear no time to think
death comes no surprise.

I want to write the poem
you always quote to impress
friends at Hampton parties
and read to your children
so they understand why this
whole mad spinning life is
worth the price of admission.
We might be born in a manger.
We might be Mary Magdalen.
We might be a million peasants.
Nobody will ever remember a
million peasants. We know Christ.

God, I have to ****
don't let me miss
I pray to be on time.
Need a good night kiss.

I watch them under streetlamps
strutting near naked in tall heels.
They remind me of every fantasy
I ever knew and I desire them now.
Married far too long in lean times
I want love's lies in motel rooms.

When I was a boy of endless summer
  I knew nothing of death's finish line
  or life's bills due by dates or hunger
  no heat pet fish die in frozen water
  I witnessed strays being slaughtered
  I saw the end of summer and youth.

Drunk old man's postulation
  on the beginning of creation:
  angry fierce crude hot lover
  energy exploding forever
  we made a God who made us
  to teach His splendid Opus
  we made a heaven and hell
  and sins to count and tell.
  We all transition to death
  rage against final breath.

Mixed messages can be confounding
   but if looked at through an alcohol
   filter they can be deciphered as if
   spoken in clear and precise language.

   Passive aggressive onslaughts are hell
   disguised as innocent comments. Clever
   warfare that has plausible deniability.
   Be vigilant and you can discern it.

   Manipulation uses ills often; migraines,
   back and/or neck pain, depression and the
   mother who visited her madness upon you.
   The first marriage tore holes in you.

   I married a 1 who became a 10. What can
   I do? signed Desperate. Dear Desperate,
   You can become a 10 or find another 1 and
   hope the new 1 will not become another 10.

I'm going to bed
to join the dead
for time it takes
dream mistakes
shake in sleep
soul to keep
wake in light
forget the night.

You broke me in pieces
when you abandoned me
sent to an orphanage
you set yourself free
hopping freight trains
postcards of small love
from places in a granite
heart push comes to shove.
You keep guilt ***** quiet
sleeping in bar lover's beds
dreaming of your life's despair
wake sober reach for the meds.

I wrap my arms around my tears
raining upon my misery. I'm in no
position to make demands. I beg
you to unfold me upon me until
they see the real me as you do. You
knew me with Virginity before you
took it from me and left me to bleed
from the wound that never goes away.
It never shows mercy and kills us.
It leaves the smell of blood perfume.

Christ or dollars
I'm on my knees
cross or stud collars
but only if I please.

I need redemption,
successful lobotomy.
Am I the exception
or Rose Kennedy?

We found love on a blanket in the park.
   The river ran backward while the moon
   fell from the night sky into the creek
   where it rocked gently in the breeze.

   At that instant that was timeless
   we raised the dead and cured the sick.
   We brought nations together in peace.
   I fell into you and rocked in the breeze.

My French peccadilloes brought me home
to New Orleans. A city without conscience.
Guilt avoids the gutters like the plague.
I live in them and hope to die in them.
Guilt lives in pews and AA folding chairs.
People afraid to die but terrified to live.

I'll bring my wounded heart.
I know you'll bring yours.
We're both old soldiers
been through many tours.

Cotton obsessed, ***** oppressed,
    Southern charm and whipping the help
    mint juleps in the oak tree's shade as
    Delta planters tamed this flooded jungle
    with a thousand slaves bought in kennels
    filled with a savage fear of lost orphans
    from lands beyond reach of our dreams.

    A noble savage we tried to free in Civil War.
    Free to live in squalor with **** schools and
    **** jobs and **** projects to call home.
    Don't fear these truths. Don't stare blind.
    Carry this prayer to your altars and pulpits
    and shout from pews demanding justice.
    Sing of misfortune and tomorrow's hope.

Not all love is lost as time can't heal all wounds.
   Lust has no use for time beyond a fortnight. It withers.
   Keep your heart under lock and key but your knees apart
   for my midnight wine stoked visit to your sacred chamber.

We're drowning in lies
innuendo and suicides.
Lift us above the fatality
rearrange our dark reality.

I saw it sprayed on a rock.
  "Why Do You All Hate Me?"
  I thought I don't know you
  so I can't hate you but if
  we meet for coffee I'll try.
  Maybe you'll hate me instead?

What a mishmash of the mismatched.
Potpourri of abandoned people in
search of connection. Singles' groups,
Parents without partners, church socials
and bars where all ye' abandon all hope.
Wait for last call and the dark corner
where the final pitch is made and you
follow a stranger as a stranger to his
bed and desperately ride a mirage to
an elusive satisfaction. Sickly morning
escape, vague promises of phone calls.
Happy ending always just out of reach.

Countless pieces birth to death
put in place first to final breath.
Paint watercolor of lovers' fight
darkness to love over into light.
Too many shapes don't fit right.
I press harder until they fit tight.

Past a certain age we grow keen
of death's hot breath on our neck.
Some night we won't awaken and
hate the sun in our eyes at dawn.
We'll never have to walk our dogs.
We won't drive slow for squirrels
on our way to Costco and *******
the young ambitious  hustlers.
We'll miss great great grand kids
born in a world we'd never approve.

Death is everywhere
Shells scatter soldier
bodies in puzzle parts
never fit together again
pray on dead's graves

We drink mint juleps
We flirt in old oaks' shade
We kiss make promises
forever and many kids
dance on dead's graves

I'll tell you things
I never tell 'cept
stranger in a bar
slam my fist into
the night time for
stranger in a bar
Forget the priest
forget confession
I'll tell my sins
to a stranger in a bar
nothing left but my
forgiveness and a
dime a dance and
sleeping in the arms
of a stranger in a bar.

The Final Chapter

I thought I was a boy
runs in summer grass
no classes freedom joy
my lifetime is near pass.
I don't know death's
ugly end of my life
shortness of breaths
hatred of my ex wife.

I won't burden you with advice
from an old man still lost as ever.
I swam against the current.
Don't do that. You will though
because you have my blood.
Trust your gut for guidance.
Be kind to everyone and you
will find love in the shadows.

To sleep
to dream
to die
painless
free of debt
and addictions
and love's
poison sting.

I brought it on myself
with Chardonnay
by the big box
forgot what to say.
I forgot her name
lovers look the same
in the tiny picture frame
so I'm never to blame.

My **** loves your need
Until you make it bleed
Giving up the baby seed
Done the final deed.

I look the same day to day like the
dogs and cat and cereal and toast.
I wake a stranger every day afraid
of different outcomes with unknown
villains plotting my demise. You are
the only constant in this universe.
You are my sword and armor and
resolve. You are my Bedlam with
restraints and pills and cruel men
with straitjackets for my comfort.
Strength is deep inside us all.
It's my ever present Hallelujah.

I felt betrayed by you
drown in my sea of hate
I choke you out tonight
God's gift a chosen fate,
or I'll beat you to pulp
a club from a woodpile.
You die quietly with
a blood lipstick smile.

there's a lonely beach
I'm sitting in the hot sun
I wish you were here
to lend me your shadow
and oil my back and kiss
me one last time again.

The second hand
drags its clock
hour glass sand
to our desert rock
ancient wind land.

Memories like anorexic hangars
inside the closet out of sight.
The sun inside the Frigidare
keeps my secrets in the dark.

I knew things changed when
the moon was gently rocking
in the breeze in a creek
since falling from the sky.

Now you know my frailties.
I'm insecure and eaten up
with doubts. I can't even
imagine keeping you happy.

The water is calm, motionless.
     Something disturbs the surface
     enough to wake doubt and fear and
     pound my heart and numb my face.

     Terrifying! Anxiety. I thought
     ****** had tamed your treason.
     You're always floating above me.
     Guilt with no anchor of reason.

I've used substances to balance my tilt.
     Smokes, beer, wine, ****** and Xanax.
     They've helped me to stay in the lines.
     I chose to ignore the rules and live on
     a pinball machine with frenetic energy.
     All I want is a drug to bring me back
     to this earth where I began the journey.
     Please take these cravings from my mind.
     The Chemists come up with carnival rides.
     Up and down and everywhere in between,
     Coney Island madness in their tiny pills.
     Bring me back from this life on Mars.

*** or tat
   **** or shat
   this or that

   live or die
   truth or lie
   laugh or cry

   mix or match
   lose or catch
   fix or patch

   early or late
   choice or fate
   love or hate

He played the piano beautifully.
    He went to war and lost his arms
    in a skirmish. Almost sounds like
    a rugby match with deadly charms.

    War is a meat grinder that shreds
   bodies and limbs by the thousands a day
    a week a month. Haig's Butcher Shop
was what everyone would always say.

Scales not dropped from eyes.
   We lived a fiction of quiet lies,
   for the children we still pretend.
   Perfect lives that will never end.
   We smile, secretly hope we die.
   Worlds collide in blink of an eye.
   Our stage explodes a fire a flash
   our truth revealed in the ash.

I arrived on time
through tiny slit
of slickest slime
***** a tiny bit.

first son arrives
into some mad world
of French clowns and
angry war torn father
stern German granny and
carnival barkers promise
just more disappointment
drunk strangers pass him
around like an empty flask
hoping someone fills it soon
we die as the photo fades
lost in light of full moon.

He came through a wall and stood
  before me. Struck dumb I listened.
  "You've been at war with yourself
  far too long. Come home, son. I've
  loved you all along. Nearly out
  of time your end is coming soon."

The *****'s strewn about the room
     like branches from a violent storm
     some ascending some descending
     some dying some better off dead

     You better watch your manners even
     in a crack house lust will bend even
     stubborn knees to adore coveted bones
     and defile you with stubborn needs

     a savior is born from these ashes
     hope delivered from a crack head
     rising above human frailty we
     will all crawl to a promised land

     the crack house is no place for
     punctuation or capital letters
     My arrogance is misplaced. We
     have needs that won't be silenced.

Unwashed masses
clean our ashes
chimney chimps
blackened pimps
soot stained child
dies in the wild

We're open wounds that
refuse to heal again
stubborn stains won't
be forgotten any more
just dice from a womb
a game of Chance and
Charli place your bets
hopscotch over and over
black or red even or odd
feeling lucky? Just nod.