Break open

While composed in line

with the stamp of these times,

between lapses

fumbling laxness

allows streaks of real to shine.


Old, broken

and a little shaken –

not the way to be seen, heard,

loved, fucked or remembered.

It’s too open.

Too open about the little defeats

inherited in our bones and meat-

and these flimsy new hearts, they moan

if you grab them hard and long,

forgetting how to beat.


Come on kids, break open-

the new and smooth are token

it’s not worthwhile to get

out of my lazy, old bed

if you’re not undone.


Image unknown

Image unknown


One time

Sad, long people

gathered around a table

waiting with drinks

in hand,

for air to grow convivial

for times to come gold-plated,

and the music to be not

so bland.

But the secret we all know

while we wait for

something more,

is that there is really

only one time-

when things taste beautifully


and hearts wildly race

for the sentience of icy fresh

diffusing greedy in our


For this one time

to return

we all sit tight and wait-

anytime now…

let’s buy another round.    


Image - William Albert Allard, Girl smoking at Au Gamin

Image – William Albert Allard, Girl smoking at Au Gamin


On things we worship

He’s too caged,

in temples and images of our brute make.

He’s too human,

drenched in emotion, standing in line with our hearts.

He’s too small.

Incapable of drowning me in wonder-clouds

on whether gravity is made of love,


what inside an atom ponders the atom,


why time seems to have a direction.

But, in the quiet nothing

between the stars,


is larger than where my breath could stray,

sweeter than my heart could take;

astounding everything I could throw -words, worship, love, prayer –

to stumble back onto land, mortal.

It remains beyond.

Image -

Image –