Camouflage

Wallowing deep 
Down in its own 
Dark juice, the octopus is 
Clearly rejoicing; surely now 
That danger’s over, some long 
Overdue indulgence is 
No great sin. 
. 

You of the spineless 
Backbone wielding 
Wishy-washy hands, 
On the murky bottom 
Of a milieu turning inky 
In the sand, there’s a lesson 
To be learnt here— 
. 

Catch it if you can. 

 

Old Old World Emigrant's Longing

His high mountain village 
So remote but still so near 
To his heart now 
Beating in the new 
World, he fancied he 
Heard the homing wind 
Clearly in the cypresses 
Ringing the cemetery, 
Shaping out of thin air 
Every breathless breath 
He took in. 

Just Sayin' I Think I Am Here For The Stinking Duration

Well, friends
That’s why life- 
Supporting loving 
Words need to be well 
Grounded in grit 
To keep them 
From being cast 
Away like so 
Many tons of swell 
Headed well- 
Meaning shit. 

KO'd By The Muse

Just between 
You and me, 
I think 
I don’t look at all 
Like a poet but I do 

Thank you so 
Much you think 
I do—would you 
Like me to 
Slam a poem 

About how 
It feels to be so 
Punch drunk you 
Can’t tell the difference 
Between what you want 

To see and what 
You’ve come to? 

Acid Reign

Crow on, old 
Indestructible 
Grackle on tip 
Of blighted cypress, 
Biting acid tongue. 

Growing Up

My father was old enough 
To be my grandfather, 
And I too young 
To know the difference, 
Till I too became 
A man old enough to know
It made no difference.

 

How To Compose A Politically (In)Correct, (Un)American Arse Poetica Coeval With These Disturbing Times

OK, class— 
Put in 

The right word 
(Fuck) 

In the right place 
(Trump) 

At the right time 
(Now), 

I think 
That’s just 

Fine.