Bl*ssful Thinking
sometimes i wish to be an apathetic
redneck, or some republican
who just doesn’t care
or give a good god damn
about what others think
would it be better
to be brazen, brave
and not give a fuck
about countries half a world away?
or simply say english must be
our lingua persona
even though we have this
thing called puerto rico
hanging around our necks?
would i be better off
keeping myself in the back pocket
of corporate america,
where they privatize profit
and socialize losses?
nicer to be naive on the issues,
but pretend i know because
of the tasty goodness of fox-fed
and conservative radio sound bites?
there is a study that warns me:
conservatives are happier
so perchance ignorance is bliss?
still, i prefer sadness and enlightment
tsk, tsk, tsk.
1 comment July 10, 2009
Fading
i like to watch as old friends fade
my suhottie, just pulling off
into the sunset, easing out
cowgirl style
west to california
bellies full of indian goodness,
hearts full of memories,
and mouths aching with catching up
i like to watch old friends fade
robin making her way
from my third story floor
in pouring rain, rushing
to get into her car and drive
back to louisville,
bellies full of bourbon,
hearts full of aching,
and mouths tired from talking
i like to watch old friends fade
annie disappearing into the
mid-western crowds for an
east coast bound flight
bellies full of ulcers,
hearts full of good deeds
and mouths sore with complaining
about the legacy of a presidency
i like to watch old mothers fade:
a momma’s face growing dim
in the porch light as the uhaul
fades out of sight
into the dark night en route
to cincinnati,
bellies full of butterflies
hearts full of hopes
and mouths full of prayers
Add comment July 10, 2009
Duppies
a jamaican mile
seems a long thing,
relatively relative
almost subjective
but these are the lengths
you’ve came, my doctor
to find me here tonight
we are both afraid:
you and i.
about those things
lingering among the trees
the stories we tell pickneys
haunt, us, too, good doctor
strangle us so that not even
our voices or capabilities are heard
there is fear in the mountains
and deep in cockpit country
people still talk and second guess
who is who and what is what
medicine means nothing
in a place where people
fret about what follows them
home at night, seen and unseen, good doctor
there is something frightening
clasped around my throat
and fierceness burns in your eyes
so easy to blame the nothingness
that does not exist
or whisper to one another
that we need just breeze off a while
set those duppies free,
whatever demons they might be, my doctor
but sprinkle a little rum and salt
for my safekeeping and passage
4 comments July 6, 2009
Light
you are not some bulb
easily replaced by another
pulled from a shelf
and screwed to stay a while
so when your life-light burns low
and the final spark is blown
i will cling to you still
perhaps living in darkness
during the remainder of my days
6 comments July 6, 2009
Independence
in a cool unusual july
unseen fireworks fill the sky
she considers the consequence
leading to newfound independence
drawing her dream close to her side
she gazes into freedom held in her eyes
Add comment July 4, 2009
2001
life is sweet
and what you make it
so says natty dread
on goldfish crackers
almost stale french bread
and cheap boxes of wine
we make life sweet
and oh so fine
with an electric blanket and hot love
we warm ourselves from the world outside
when gas prices are too high
in this old brewery building
with crumbling plaster walls
and dark, dank yellow halls
we have made our own paradise
2 comments July 2, 2009
The Lady Speaks
me, the lady of shalott
is eye-locked in the mirror
because i know i’m hot to trot
but could it be any clearer
i’m looking at me while gazing at you?
how can you just pass me by
without lingering a while?
when you wander past this way
why is it you won’t stay
with me, the lady of shalott?
there is something much deeper
to locking myself away:
because i think i’m a keeper
and know you’ll feel the same
if you’d only see me, the lady of shalott
you’d see my my raven curls
and ponder the beauty they would unfurl
if you’d free your locks to entangle with mine
you’d find a night with me to be sublime
if you’d only see the lady of shalott
i see your reflection coming along the course
and make one last attempt to catch your eye
sometimes these things happen by force
and this will be final try
to allow you to gaze upon the lady of shalott
alas i pretend i’m weaving
while i watch you leaving
but really i am seething
with my hands writhing
while i look at me gazing upon you
my mirror’s cracked reflection devises a plan:
you are prince charming and will be my man
you will pull me from the soggy mire
as i drift down alongside your shire
you’ll see the lady of shalott floating down to camelot
so here i go: downstream i float
while the eddies fill my little boat
now i’m sinking and find this queer
no one fucking sees me drowning here
Moral
this lady of shallot
knew she was hot to trot
ergo with vanity forgot
so too was sir lancelot
5 comments June 25, 2009
Neighborhood at Night
this once fertile hill of fields
turned-sparsely-settled subdivision
is haunted with distant train whistles,
tree frogs and the scent
of clover hanging in
the damp air where
distant cars hiss down wet
distant country roads or
crush gravel causing not-too-far off
livestock to stir
this darkened meadow
shows signs of intrusive life
in a place once known for peace and quiet
3 comments June 23, 2009
She-Devil
she sauntered in
like a whirlwind,
small and inconspicuous
kicking leaves about
in an otherwise quiet corner
she offered red, swirled
licorice in her right hand
blue skirt flailing about her waist,
but there was something seductive
about the way that red candy twirled
and spun, long and semi-hard,
landing in and wetting her mouth
if i were straight, how could i resist?
but i’m not, so i chose the licorice
7 comments June 23, 2009
Ambitious
perhaps happiness
would come if i gave in
abandoned all ambition
succumbed to ruralburbia
settled for a distillery
job in clermont kentucky
instead of pursuing
loftier goals.
if i had just given up
my ardor of pushing harder
stopped listening to people
who’d traveled farther
perhaps i’d feel fulfillment
with a sense of content
sometimes ambition can
overrule us to the end
5 comments June 23, 2009

