ode to washoe

in wisp of feathery pen,
stoked declaration of self,
motivated by presence, child, and man,
hood lifted, carefully held

woman whispering ode,
fused in fiery brow,
ignited in sagebrush and kinship,
connection indignantly loud

now take it deeply,
to wine, willows, and friends,
dirt's dance across leathery backs,
imbibe in this desert amen.

summer enlightenment

time to meditate.
a pilgrimage to
chinatown.

weathered friends,
scribing pages
of sidewalk sanskrit
welcome.

"hey, how are you?"
"good darling. very well."
"enjoying the sunshine?"
"yes darling. very well."
"what is the meaning of this?"
"darling. you are. listen."

bang. the white wheel on a man's
bicycle pops. he is thrown to
the curb. the bus stops.

"you have a nice ass."
"thank you."
"what did you come for?"
"satori."
"then drink this."

sirens and the man is
placed in an ambulance
discombobulated.

the beer is warm.
we shut our eyes.
silence. inhale.

alone i return to the car.

"wandering mind return to breath."

the key ignites
and i leave
knowing.

a spade

i once had lover who wrote me

and i would anticipate his sex
like hose water on an August garden.

tonight, i await the
reply of middle aged woman
over a proposed business takeover

that could pay the bills.

funny how simple getting off is
but how different it feels

when fucking a spade or a queen.

ambient rest

i take a pill

that eliminates
the endless email
the lagging phone call

one night's rest at a time.

and if the world pokes me
a simple re-dose
works until dawn

this state of surrender
has me rendered
like the tales' Grimm.

fuck this.

incarnation

summertime.

call it unofficial
but i saw my nipples
this season's begun.

the boys are basking
in halos unmasking,
but where is
the pun?

time to write script
but this season
has stripped
my winter's undone.

welcome back.