Monday, April 14, 2014








we spoke
with the clouds

lying there
with the tulips

sunglasses
and overcoats















Thursday, April 3, 2014






you know where I am going with this
music 
between us
playing on my nerves

slipping away
with
intensity








Monday, March 31, 2014




wanting 
you 

hearing 
you 
in 
the rain 
on 
a steel roof

the Irish
count 
to 
ten

in 
the 
company 
of 
sin






Sunday, March 30, 2014




I want you, more or less

a smidgen
of lovely
airless
love

holding off till spring

that special 
reach

your
slight
of
urge

buried halfway
to
bursting










Wednesday, March 26, 2014





you find conversation 
lying about

good looks
ruined by glamour

your cigarette finds
a drafty balcony

considers the 
shadows

and the gentle butchery of 
a poem

glossy
with hangover

perfect
for misunderstanding

contemplates the future
of sunrise






Monday, March 24, 2014






a woman
to wrap the cheese and butter

connects with
a deep muddy nerve

takes up the piano
floats
out to heaven









Thursday, March 20, 2014





snowflakes 
in the night

seem faintly ridiculous
refuse to speak 

to the fright of the sky
spin to the ground 

what photographers do 
when they run out of looking