a single string of hope

Every single line, you know

Is a single string of hope

Tied tightly like a bow

Let go like a balloon

For every single addict—to see

From his lonely corner sidewalk

To the comfort of her goose down

From the Tetons to the sea

The Price You Pay For Being Born

A couple days of patience

and a miners rest, she’s

Sleeping like a baby

in her Sunday’s best, I

didn’t wake her up

I was too forlorn, but

That’s what you get for being born—

I was taking out the trash

like the other weak, with

The temper of a mime

I began to speak, when

She woke she’d a fever

and a thousand words, I

Guess I’d spoken them all before—

Must be something in the water

cause I’m overboard, with

The seaweed and the starfish

dried out on the shore, it’s

Nothing I would suggest

drowning in a well, it’s

Just a way to be by yourself—

She dreamt of her family

from the outer space, and

Gave me a healing

full of peace and grace, but

I took it for granted

like most lovers do, it’s

Loud as hell in this quiet room—

Words form a meaning

if you spin them right, it’s

Like turning hay to gold

if it’ll save your life, so

Leave the baby in the basket

wrapped by your front door, it’s

The price you pay for being born—

Where Praying Mantis Lay

There’s something bout the Summer

that makes this all ok, yet something

bout the Winter that

would have me feeling grey—

Like the cement of a tombstone

or the flowers of decay

In Springtime there’s a forward march

No Fall back plan could save—

Perhaps it’s in the heatwave

that makes this all ok, or perhaps

it’s the chemistry

where praying mantis lay

A Delicate Cage

What I release to the night

Let’s me wake in the morning

Where I’m light as a feather

And stiff as a board

Oblivious to the slow dying

That I keep in a delicate cage

With just enough space

And water

And love—to survive

Acting like you don’t know is an art in itself

It’s hard

To see

Out this pit

Of despair

When you’re down

On your knees

In the cold

Summer air

And it’s hard

To conceive

Memories

When you care

Looking for

What you lost

In a house

Built of mirrors

And it’s hard

When you know

All of this

Is a joke

Convinced

Or exposed

Either way

There’s a host

To obey

Or believe

In what you

See in me

That’s alright

It’s ok

Sip your honey

and tea

I just thought

You should know

I don’t know—

Yeah I know

Tchotchke

You read my sadness

Word for word

Like I’m a novelty

Then put me down

Back in my place

Some oldtime tchotchke—

And I wonder how it feels,

Window shopping too?—

From the corner of my gladness

To the outskirts of your sadness

Where nothing is for certain

And no one is to blame

Except we don’t glimmer anymore

Or sparkle like we used to—

Ornamental at our best

Tokens from another life

Tongues

Myself or you

Who to believe?

Our tongues

Entwined

With poetry

The trail’s bare

Just fallen leaves

Our bread it’s stale

And crumbling

Proper Horrorshow

Perhaps our first impression

is ultimately the last extension

of our false self—

primped and proper horrorshow—

doing any and everything

to impress upon the willing,

whether or not we recognize that self

is null and void of consequence

having fooled them all except

Ourselves.

Morning Light

Sometimes there’s

a drop of hope

in the morning light,

before the sun turns over

and the evening grows dark

where the uncouth gather

and the emptiness starts,

leaving me dormant

waiting for the morning light.

Treason

Call me by my medicine

not by my mistakes

It’s all I have to offer,

it’s all that I can take

Call me by your reasons

my reason not to stay

And let me be the treason

to help you walk away