Dream Tears

Do they pour down your face, make
your stomach cramp,
your mouth seize and grind?
Are they emptied into a

Wake to a snotty pillow and wonder
what made you so sad in the night
and why
tears so real broke through
the dream-kleenex, and wonder

are you even as happy
as you think you are.


The Procedure Went Well 5 Apr 2018

The hour was early as I sat my silent vigil in the dark.
Well, not so silent, really.

The askance-glancing cat did not
stay long.

The partner roused, with thanks
and apologies.

The paperwork was in order. All phone numbers wrong,

Needles stuck, gas flowed, not sure if
“Walk on the Wild Side”
was appropriate soundtrack, but hey.
Rock n roll.

Back home and comfy, but

no poem today.

Band Name Generator

“The”, then use alone, or mix and match; modify or pluralize as necessary:

— Color that is created when you mix all the green and purple together .
— Condition achieved when one eye is open and the room is spinning and you realize
you are not in your own or even anyone’s room.
— Condition achieved when you have to crawl on a nasty floor to get a contact lens.
If you were ever at CBGB/OMFUG, there.
— What that lens feels like in your eye, because you forgot your cleanser
and you are blind without your contacts.
— State you hate the most in the USA or in your life.
— An organ stop.
— Name of a person you hate-fucked.
— A national or regional dish you can’t imagine eating, ever, under any circumstance. Any.
— An obsolete form of transportation.
— Physics concept you least understand.

Voila. You are ready to rock and roll.



This Family of Pronouns

He didn’t do his share
She took too much for granted
They let the house go to the dogs

They struggled to cook an egg
She complained about the smelly fridge
He shouted inanities from the bathroom

She lit a fire in the linen closet
They forgot to feed the cat
He left the car window open in the rain

I didn’t you shouldn’t I can’t
We oughtn’t I willn’t you musn’t

The police followed a trail of nouns
And found them asleep in the weeds.

Way way off
in the weeds


Unquiet Easter

Do not go quiet into Easter Day.

Go with loud crashings and whoops.
Go with gulls a-screech
and plashing dolphins and
go as a chosen one into the sea.

Go with a man whom you trust to dip you down to the tide
and raise you again.

Hold hands in a circle,
and go with those people to the next part of your life.

This day is not meant for quiet,
but for mad tintinnabulation in the soul.
The bells that still can ring, ring for thee.

There is time for hushed thoughts and silent minding,
but now, in this unquiet Easter,
let the raucous world ring in a newness
that is as old as Perseus’ old, deep note.



The conference of rabbits went as so:

They made a rule that only rabbits were invited.
They lit carrot-scented candles to mark the occasion.
They walked around on two legs sometimes,
a thing only done in like company.
They told jokes only rabbits would get,
and eschewed those using “hare” puns.
Their guest speaker, Peter, gave tips on gardening
and hoe-avoidance.
They called early adjournment,
as everyone was getting
a little


The battle for souls rages on
in a bell jar
in Kansas City.
from the dreams of Milton
writhe on through the ages.

How could an artist
so obsessed
remain unknown?
Did he love or hate
his fellow humans?

Unanswerable questions,
but if you look closely, you’ll see
that the God of love
and the God of smite
are crafted from the same tusk.