A Poem Should Be (19)

Like that almost 
Imperceptible small white 
Thorn in 

Your palm’s life- 
Line that stirs now 
And then and keeps 

Needling you when 
You think it has gone 
To sleep. 

Point Nowhere Man

Wandering this way and that 
For who knows how long, 
You’re finally at the point 
Where nothing points the way 
To nothing anymore. Where 

Does this leave us, you’re tempted 
To say; no doubt those 
Closest behind you now jostling 
For pole position will soon be 
Wondering that as well one day. 

Haiku: Weeping Low Hanging Tree

willow plunging limbs 
in too polluted thickly 
choking slick black creek. 

Cur Dead To The World Of Love

Wake up and hold that cowardly 
Peace of yours no longer, Corazón— 

I’ve eavesdropped on you 
All these years and never once 

Did I hear you skip a beat? 

That Same Old Song And Dance Coming Soon To Your Neighborhood Theater!

Where each new spectacular 
Episode of sunset presents 

Something different for everybody 
In attendance and all end promising just

Another twilight zone.