A scream that refuses comfort
For the culture of our history’s sake
Our parents dream for us
...
To the space between then and now
I bow down
To the hairline fracture in my mask of ignorance
I smile an imperceptible smile
...
Turn and it’s gone
Opportunity on a catapult
Faith on a dirty weekend
Turn, and it’s the same old same
...
Confessions of a qualm play:
I’m bothered by notions
Of what to, not to say.
It seems to worsen with age.
...
I count the sessions like shekels
The greed absorbed into the auto-angst
The number short of feeding what really matters
...
From my heart
You took me
From my heart
I gave you back
...
We look to communicate
For fear of boring ourselves
Into an early grave
But when it comes to disclosure
...
His eyes won’t often come to mind
His ears select a careful sound
Yet have a tendency to burn
...
We could nail it earlier to head off the doubt
That doldrums the blood flow
But it's the returning salmon's memory
That hesitates first
...
MUST HURRY THIS ONE
WITH THE JOURNEY PENDING AND
THE OBOLS WIRED THROUGH
THE TIME FOR LAST GOODBYES PASSED
...