Cretan Maineiac Poems

Muggy today, a
pop of the mitt, a whiff of
the grass, swish of the
bat in the April air,
...

The offer never ceases to be
tho i strike it down relentlessly
...

To fix a headlock on a
metaphor, or
clamp a full nelson on a
...

We open our
Eyes only
because
God
...

*for my father*

You look just like
him, some say, that
...

What of the knowing wind
of Hendrix on vinyl
songs of silence
lately branded for our own good?
...

The pine tree rained needles
and ants
upon the Somali and me,
...

Ted Sheridan fought for our soil
he woulda' done it just for oil.
...

No thorns, limbs sashay longly, cheetah
walk toward
no prey, footloose, her dark blond hair
...

Since then you’ve ground
my sincerity like
an old smoke under your heel, scoffed
...