You slingers of paint

and idle poets better 

have some deep pockets. 

Crawl to the finish

line if you must on bloody 

hands and knees 

Like startled gazelles 

at water's edge. the sirens 

sent us scurrying 

Behind the veil of

morality lies a sump

full of bubbling lies 

We were titans turned

wage slaves who clawed our way out

to be born anew 

A lighted window 

beckoning you homeward to 

the life you've made

The wind rustles the

dying leaves and sweeps them down

the path to their end. 

 Give thanks for all you 

have, for there are so many 

struggling today 

We recalled the old 

stories, not ancient, but close, 

at least to children.

Belabor the point 

since their heads are buried so 

deep, unlistening 

Dawn kicks up its heels 

like a Parisian can-can 

dancer a-twirling 

The wind whistles through

the open car window telling 

me "c'mon, let's go." 

This apocalypse

in slow motion has somehow

still caught us off guard 

The rowdy wind and 

the scowling clouds have come to

scatter your daydreams 

A summer insect 

somehow survived the bitter 

cold to die inside 

They're knocking at the

door and looking through windows 

(these made-up monsters).  

Dreaming costs nothing

although transforming them to

reality might. 

Like some ancient god 

the fire calls not just to

warm but to reflect  

In the dappled light

of a winter afternoon

I thought of you, love. 

The dun-colored sky 

sets off the blazing yellow

of the dying leaves.

The words, some days, are 

like meat on a spit. rolling 

around ceaselessly 

Rusty razors and 

broken bottles everywhere 

so watch your step, friend. 

Sometimes kindness does

not work, so sharpen verbal 

daggers and go deep.  

WLAH (we 

love acronyms here) in the 

good ole' USA 

I'd rather spend my 

days on word games and puzzles

than head games and tricks 

A sharp turn of phrase

can be easier than to

turn the other cheek 

Brandish your love, friend,

instead of a weapon to 

gaily baffle them

The cold wind kicks up

as if in warning of what's 

to soon come our way 

Join the dogs at the 

park in wild play, primal whoops 

of pleasure from thee 

Some thoughts are deeper 

than others like dazed days that

barely register