Category Archives: Poems

High clues man.

El Jimador

The sobriquet of animal nature
came storming down to awaken me
on a cold evening in December.

The Virgin Mary was born and
the olympic runners carried her flames
without their bodies to a new pavilion.

It felt like the sojourn was not at an end
when too many voices from Barton Fink
were marauding me with arrows.

Black diamond stairs sucked me into a fan cooled cave
and I could not be there and walked out for a tattoo.

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Economic Opportunity Costs

A mighty spearman transcendent from blue holes held me in esteem
and gave oil free shells, one of which was a teardrop from a little baby laughing,
and showed me a bottle drunk by aghost from Pittsburgh.

We ascended to heaven together, but he made it further.

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But They Would Pay me in Bullion

If my story were to be espoused by sailors aft
it would be entitled “his teeth
and everything he ever loved was coated in coffee.”

It would be a dull story.

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Missing Buttons and Collard Shirts

A cloud stormed over the skies, the Canadians could not subdue their forests.
The particulate matter marched on and over and over downtrodden miles of infrastructure
Preventing the smells of Baltimore from the understanding of our noses.

You were a ray of sunshine on your wedding day.

P.S. I hope these images occur in perpetuity.

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Urban Planning

You walked by withholding hands with a friend, you stored a gun on your belt.
I heard you giggle gleefully and you played in a pile of newly minted maple leaves.
They spelled out the word LOVE and were terminated with a heart.

The picture I snapped was wavy and filled with stones.

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Blue bonnets and eggs bore baby birds in the morning.
Protein was be delivered by the beakful as the eggplants were tended to.
One evening a strident summer gale swept the woven home to the floor.

We three saw the falcon, and I knew it came for the babe, and then we grilled local steaks.

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Rock Me Momma Like A Wagon Wheel

A sylvan being spirited by Venus light brights
and a growl from shrunken black pumas
gave subtle pops from creamy knees that jumped like lightning across the room.

I learned a lesson on life that time.

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The scars of the mosiquitos were tiny dancers or my sweat soaked skin
I thought that I would scratch them, to subdue them to take a bow
But it was best to appreciate all of their leprechaun frappés et chassés.

I really wish that you had not come home so early that day – I had on a green shirt.

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The Street and the Cat

Seawater was sewn with the hair of a bruised dog
and I believed it to be that items would be presented
as earthen figures and not pieces of shaken trees stumps.

Only when I sleep can I ever see a mile.

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I am not Giowing [sick]

It is not a pleasant plan to work for the sky.
Just swim in the streams of scratching grass
And taste the worms that are creating the lossless, the soil.

This is what I imagined from Jesusfish swimming in a well lit jungle.

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