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Monthly Archives: September 2019

Hyde in Jekyll’s clothing.

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Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde

unleashed by use of potion

as swift as light

as evenings cloak

a wrecking ball in motion

of skin and flesh

a heart so dark

devoid of all emotion

it’s midnights grip

from which I hide

and seek to cure

this strange compulsion

like many men

before my time

who tried to rid the notion

of good and evil

within one mind

a harlequin commotion

where in the end

come banging fists

as silent screams approach him

to slay the monster

from within

the cure his own expulsion

and in plain clothes

lay to rest

Hyde in Jekyll’s clothing.

nervous wreck

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If you take comfort

in the fact that

each day

each person you encounter

is their own personal

nervous wreck

than I think this whole life thing

full of strange responsibility

and odd accountability

just gets a little easier,

a little more bearable.

semi colons &

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It was raining cats and dogs

when she spoke in

semi colons &

claustrophobia.

I’m glad you’re here,

she said.

I told her that

I was glad that she was too.

So we continued our

run on sentences &

admiration a while longer

before settling on goodbye.

It had stopped raining

and the sun was coming out.

As for the cats and dogs

they lay sleeping sound.

the other day.

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I made Pico de Gallo

the other day

and it needed salt

so I added salt

then put it away.

Then I took a nap

and woke up

more tired

than I’d been before I’d shut my eyes.

Then I wrote a song

drank some beer and

called it a day.

Nobody had to know I existed

and I was fine with that.

The Pico still needs work though,

I’ll send word.

Saturday morning

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Saturday morning

woke me up

scratching and sour.

Then I wrecked my pants

feeling lousy, still

I went to my workshop

estranged from the world

yet there in that room

among strangers

who some

I call friends

I felt

Inspired

& well

Happy

So we told our stories

and while listening to Avi read about

Bob in a shipyard explosion

all that other stuff just kind of

went away.

Rapid Eye Movement

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You are an embarrassment

he said while picking my pockets

vacant I stared idle

in an undisclosed location

Danielle sat next to me

tenderly stroking the inside flesh

of my arm although

we’d only spoken a handful of times

back in grade school, he said again

Nobody likes you, you know

So I just agreed with him because

her fingers felt like grasshopper wings

fluttering through my mind, he

looked a deep sorrow longer

and that’s where he began to cry

I am sorry my friend, I said while he

cradled me like a new born lamb

only I was much bigger than him

so by the end of it it was I who was

more so doing the cradling, then

as he disappeared effortlessly

Danielle and I sat a long while

next to one another, her hair

long dark and full of whispers

while the room filled with necessary strangers

Holding hands for a while she said,

you aren’t that bad you know

he just really loves you is the point

and then too disappeared into a sea of snakes

which I could not swim

while the couch turned to an island

I sat sipping from my cup

the bitter dark liquid I had earlier poured.

sometimes pigs do fly

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I have past the point of no return

where apologies have lost there meaning

Where no explanation is needed

because hell has frozen over, and I swear

I saw a pig fly the other night

but perhaps that was just my reflection

bopping down Magnolia Boulevard

watching taillights fade

and counting them like crows

One, then two, and four and eight

Oh I thought, what a burden it is to sleep

and what a wonder it is to wake.

I made a phone call that night too

and said some terrible things

that by way of the universe

I guess I just needed to say.

I am that guy sometimes — not all —

but sometimes pigs do fly.

So this is who I am

I won’t apologize

Good luck out there

If you stop judging it all,

it’s actually quite wonderful.

Nobody sleeps.

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Nobody

sleeps. We

just break our feet

and walk again.

And again.

And again.

Then awake as if

from a dream

in a rented room

which smells of

antiseptic soap.

And like a child

waiting to be fed

we struggle

struggle to breathe

struggle to see

struggle to hear

we struggle to be

like we wish we had been

all those years

we couldn’t sleep.

Shaking hands

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I’m not very good at shaking hands

I just kind of put my hand out there

and well

try to match the shake of the other.

I guess I sort of know what that

says about my character, but

I’m cool with that, you know.

Sure I told him

without even saying a word — the courtesy

hug thereafter well, that’s a whole other story.