“Swallowed Harms”

“Swallowed Harms”

right here upon a heart staked hope,

I asked for help, your shoulder cold.

irksome, lonesome, per arrangement,

a perfect marriage becomes estrangement.

left to quiet room’s despair,

Atlas shrugged, and took a chair.

suffer, shame despondent moods.

harried lifelong interludes.

a simple sense surrounding charms,

regurgitating swallowed harms.

“My Tired”

“My Tired”

My tired stretches outward, and underwhelms.

Staunch narcoleptics, snoring pots and pans to beat the band.

Slumber robs youth of steady confidence.

Methodical metronome,

cadence of an old age home,

waiting to retire.

Sweaty yellow pillowcases carry the weight of the world.

Quiet, tenderest of moments, forgotten when memories are remembered.

Life, per seek, per chance, a dream of waking sleep.

Lost, recovered? Abruptly.

Dream-weaving steampunk.

Eyelids sealed, a treasure trunk.

Deep oscillating breath,

skirts the breadth of death.

“Kicking the Can Down the Road”

“Kicking the Can Down the Road”


Kicking the can down the road.

Bear the load?

Kicking the can,

sight unseen.

Beyond horizon,

at last carefree.


Kicking the can down the road.

Past the fence.

No consequence.

Main event?

Build suspense.


Kicking the can down the road.


Do you suppose,

it will hold?


Kicking the can down the road.

Yet again,

to the end.


Kicking the can down the road.

Hopes, bereft.


Kicking…no room left




Gone, too far.


The line in the sand, redrawn.

War among us.

Population zero.

Patient zero.

Patience zero.

Hate is the new WI-FI password.

The Oracle has gone fishing.

Truth is inconvenient.

Harm the new energy drink.

Noise, noise, noise.

Balls to the wall.

Brashness and misdirection have supplanted humility and exactitude.

Fierce denial.

You can’t tell people to look to the horizon for hope, especially when they believe the earth is flat.

Doors closed, lights out.

No one’s home.