"Run For Your Life--There Are Stupid People Everywhere!"

Well, if they are 
Everywhere, smart- 

Ass, where’re 
You going to run to? 

Pulp Friction

curioCity kills Bloody Marys 
maraschino cherries Pop guns 
gang bangs poontang rat snitches 
and Edsel squeals 

cathouse beldams melt hams down 
dog days nightmares ride hunchbacks 
warning lights stop critters peeling 
rubber dead in their tracks 

cornered but ornery 
disembodied vulvas bare back 
their teeth like 

the Cheshire cat.

Touché

You’re only in touch 
With the world insomuch 

As you remain open 
Enough to touch. 

I Scream, You Scream. . . .

Paisano I tell you this 
Life is a one helluva big ice cream cone 
That’s a melting lickety-split so 

You don’t wanna stand there 
With your little finger jammed 
Up your ass doing nothin’— 

You gotta lick it, capisce? 

Missing Crux Oxymoron

In lieu of a haiku: 

Of course you do not know 
You’re lacking in something— 
Something is stopping you. 

Poetry: The Last Frontier

Situated in some nebulous distance, 
I do what I do so that the universal balance 
Of which I am a part may remain a balance. 
--Antonio Porchia, “Voices” 

In the blooming Judas tree above 
My head, the spaced-out

Enterprising bees go 
Deliriously about

Their going concern business 
Doing exactly you-know-what— 

In a nebulous universe, so am I 
Doing clearly God knows what. 

It's A Dog's Life Until You Lose It

Beats me but coming 
After a hard day’s scrounging 
For scraps, I’d wager 

Those two dead- 
Tired, bedraggled 
Strays that spend 

Their nights curled 
Up on threadbare welcome 
Mats on opposite sides 

Of the main drag—one 
In front of the bakery 
And the other 

In front of the laundry— 
Most likely imagine that 
As long as they can 

Sleep and dream 
Of warm doghouses 
And doggy food galore, 

There will always be 
The prospect of waking 
Up one fine morning still

Very much alive, yet for some 
Strange reason always 
Wanting more.