Wish You Were Here

Dear heart 
Beat always 
Uneasily expectant 

With whatever passes 
Before us, what 
Say we pretend 

It’s always been here. 

Wishful Thinking, Misanthrope

Sometimes I think 

The world would have been 
A much, much better place 

Without me, so much better 
That I wish I could 

Flash back to that hard dirt floor 
Just before the midwife 

Helped mom push me through 
The darkness, stop everything and settle 

That long-overdue score I have 
With who-knows-what 

That’s killing me—surely 
I could live with that

And wish no more. 

A Poem Should Be (2)

like a bullet 

                                                                      train crashing 

through 

                                                                      your brain. 

Black Sheep

You bleat some things are better off left in the dark— 
If so, why do they keep on moseying back, 
Dragging their white-washed tales behind them? 

Cryptic

Listen up—is it the leaves falling 
Or the sound of the wind dying down 
That wants to interrupt your sleep?