A Warning

A WARNING Every con begins the same Regardless of its latest name And that’s to feed the fantasy That what we want is there for free

Travel Poems: The Rite of Wrong

Family members like to take Potshots at other family members And with these types of shots There is really no inoculation Nobody knows us like family Nobody else can so magnify our faults Nobody else can make us feel so much like Nobody


DUST Surrounding us are many things We felt compelled to buy; No doubt, our movies, books, and clothes We’ll keep until we die – And die we will, we don’t when, We only know we must – And then these things can collect us As they’re collecting dust

Massage Parlor

Grand Opening Sudden impulse Duck inside Dark. fragrant Young masseuse Indicates door Clothes off Towel on Soft table Warm hands Strong tension Slow release . .. … Big tip

An Exchange

AN EXCHANGE She told him she was married He said he didn’t care She told him she was taken He asked her, “Taken where? Bet not where I would take you,” said he, Says she, “Do tell.” “I’d take you straight to heaven.” “No, you’d take me to hell.”


SELF-POSED I wish I that I could ask The ancient Oracle at Delphi To explicate that wonder of Our modern times: the selfie. I’d try, myself, to say But I’m afraid I’ll seem un-gallant: They’re kind of a like a self-portrait, Except, without the talent.


To be with others and have no place is loneliness, But, to be alone and part of the whole is solitude.  

Farm-Girl Invasion

I drive in the country, and on one occasion I saw the scorched earth of a farm-girl invasion With fires in fields leading into a town With people all over, but no men around – The men were in boxes, the women outside I saw a red veil on one terrible bride Standing by a … Continue reading "Farm-Girl Invasion"