The Movies – a poem

Media Conglomerates Nameless, faceless, blue-suited, briefcased pomaeded peacocks Strut the streets, stepping out of their sleek status symbols Imperviously impersonal market managers pinpoint precisely the price of slaves And dictate the desires of last year’s average family While producing carefully calculated demographically unassailable unpalatable Boxed DVD sets of Soylent Green and other statistically sterile offspring

Hair of the Dog – a poem

Distilled spirits Calm familiar It’s that first bite Clear cold and tight Hair of the dog that bit me Always pictured that literally, visually Unhappy Beast With claws Tamped down for cause She detests She protests Hurls invective inventive insults Incompetence abounds Forced to attend the Stupid Olympics Wherein everybody loses When everybody wins, sheContinue reading “Hair of the Dog – a poem”

My mother in this place

My mother in this place rests in the dabs and strokes of her Three Volcano painting. Rescued from oblivion and an evil stepfather who tried to drown the very idea of her. I cleaned it with moistened cotton swabs, gently washing tobacco smoke and dust decades old. My mother in this place drips red andContinue reading “My mother in this place”

Carrying You in my Pocket – a poem

Carrying you in my pocket means You need to scooch over to make room for my chilled hand. Worry beads, rosaries, pebbles and jade have all made way. Like a stone in my pocket, you soothe. Like a stone in my shoe, you impede. Like a stone in my kidey, you hurt. Like a stoneContinue reading “Carrying You in my Pocket – a poem”