Right There

Yes, in the end this is 
What it means to be free— 

The world feels right 
When you are so, 

And that’s where 
You should be.

Late Autumn Mystery Unfolding Under Plane Tree

Not just the startled 
Cackling of the murder 

Of crows lifting off 
At the sight of our passing,

But the crackling also
Of burnished gold swirling 

Leaves letting go. 

Should A Poem Be Or Not Be Like You Want It To Be?

For the sake of this 
Poem, let’s go out 

On a limb and say 
Ferocious— 

A scurvy feral 
Feline tensing it- 

Self to scurry up 
A budding 

Tree, all set to seize
The moment

A carefree song 
Bird alights on 

That nearest now quivering 
Thin green limb for all 

The innocent 
To see. 

After Archilochos: Unconditional Surrender

]mischievous [those] 
] 
] 
]lascivious girls 
]
] [ ] [ ] [ ] keep
] 
]coming and [all?] us 
]enamored 
] 
]of [our] armor[ed] [dick?] 
] 
]heads can do 
] 
] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] 
] 
]with [our] spears 
] 
] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] pointedly 
] 
][blunted?] 
] 
] [ ] [ ] [ ] is 
]
]run 
]           run 
]                      run . . . . . . .
] 
] 
]

Seriously Jilted Beau

I told you back then—play
This muse for a sucker once
Too often and you’ll find me
Doing—with a new twist—
That old song and dance you
Thought you knew the motions to
All too well, the beguine that begins

I should have known better 
With a girl like you, 
That I would love 
Everything that you do
And I do, hey, hey, hey,
And I do. . . . . . . . . .

You say you got the hots for me
Still but with all your screwing
Up, your never-ending Hoochie-
Coochie with you, you, you--
Hey, hey, hey, guess what
Doggerel licker, no longer
Do I for you.