General Obvious 

 

General Obvious

Poetry won’t feed the hungry 
Songs won’t stop the war 
That painting’s doing nothing 
to combat global warmth 

but in between the barricades 
I might steal a kiss 
just to remember what 
we’re fighting for, general obvious 

I used to think everybody 
had rich interior lives 
that art was an aristocracy 
where everyone could fantasize 

now that I’ve been in the trenches 
longer than I can count 
I see that the struggle starts early 
and never really stops 

now that I’m in the trenches 
with my six feet blown off 
I’d expose my lovers early 
as life begins with art


Throbs 

 Throbs 


everything’s connected 

everything pulses 


glowing on 

frequencies lost to us 


sometimes someone 

pulls in our vibration 


and then life feels 

like a song 


dark’s punctured 

dirty streets shine 


dull and monotonous 

are transformed 


it just takes you 

and a little smile 


where it goes 

we don’t have to know

Midnight Buys Me 

 Midnight Buys Me 


Could somebody stop me 

before it’s too late 

would you walk with me 

to my fate 


I’ve been drop-shipped 

too much of late 

I’d just like to face 

what I’m dealing with 


I’ve tapped out 

everyone I know 

I don’t blame you 

treating me as a ghost 


got one last chance 

to get it under control 

before I’ve spent 

the whole rent on my soul 


I don’t even know 

who’s dictating this 

all I can tell ya 

is she’s beyond pissed 


this is my one last 

desperate wish 

bring it to an end 

and forget the debt

Stoned in the Park 

 Stoned in the Park  


there’s nothing more to do 

than put sun 

on our face 

on this beautiful day 


as the world slowly turns 

I didn’t turn 

on the news 

or even get dressed


I call out sick from work 

close your computer

we meet at the park

saluting the commuters 


you brought something 

to cheer me up

and I’ve got 

something for you 


we then 

take a walk 

as if the world

was brand new 


stoned in the park with you

a child with a balloon

lovers neck and neck 

joggers chased by a squirrel 


stoned in the park

what we need to do

to feel something like love

in a form we forgot how to use


you’ve got wine 

I’ve brought cheese 

minds start to spin

as we look at the trees 


follow the clouds

’til it starts to rain

recording everything

to remember Monday 


stoned in the park

what an obvious thing to do

sun and breeze float anxieties 

around the world

Prices 

 Prices


If you’re lucky 

you hit the three-sixty 

full tour back 

from where you came 


many only get 

one-eighty regretful  bitter dies 

their name 


some only do

two-twenty 

turning it around 

a little too late 


with you 

I’m a constant ninety forever  

wagging my tail 


every day with you 

is no gamble 

playing that 

numbers game


In the dark 

 In the dark 


our eyes adjust 

the light’s gone out 

the spark’s just a part 

of our imagination 


with this black 

we stand out 

what was taken as fact 

has become a doubt 


and we hold ourselves 

as if we were someone else 

as if we could tell 

what the point of this was 


we practice an end 

again and again 

doesn’t lessen the shock 

we hope it’s just 


the start 

of 

something 

else 

Potential 

 Potential


Always keep some potential
ahead of you
you never know
when it might run out

I’ve known too many people
who’ve peaked at thirteen
that’s a long skidmark

I start over every morning
sometimes I don’t start
jumpstarted by a key
attached to an alarm clock

I nibble on that potential
in moments on the job
that stare often takes me
unaware lost for hours

I’d suck on your potential
I’d piss on your regrets
or we could keep it in the air
for a number of years

Me and My God 

 Me and My God


me and my god 

go out for a walk 

sometimes she’s silent 

sometimes she talks too much 


about the state of the world 

her favorite perfume 

and anything else that 

crosses the block 


if I can get a word in 

I sometimes ask for 

small favors 

whether I deserve them or not 


my god likes to test my faith 

she hides my keys 

sends me idiots 

on Mondays 


to teach me patience 

to share some wisdom 

if I behave real well 

she sends me someone to be with 


and then I can forget 

my dear loneliness

that other god 

I often cheat on her with

Woodies 

 Woodies


I’ve clicked and travelled on vacation 

shopped and gambled on location


become unraveled with the notion 

this world was made for you and me 


from politicians to corporate interests 

from religions to tribal kingdoms  


to wholesale slaughter of the innocent

this world was made for you and me 


As I was talking in line at Staples 

people in front of me grew impatient 


A Jamaican pensioner 

called the Philippine call center 


while a Dominican clerk helped 

ten other customers 


drop-shipping five dollar pants 

made by Uyghur prisoners 


this world was made for you and me


This world is my world this world is your world 

as it swirls in a blur of colors


as viruses get stronger and longer  

this world was made for you and me

The Blood of Poets 

Life happens slowly 

then quickly 

in the eye 

of a hurricane 


everything is silent 

and still 

on the outside 

destruction rages 


things change 

we recover 

we rediscover 

ourselves  


we’re overtaken 

slowly but surely 

by the ghost of 

everything else


You saved my life 

without you 

I would’ve died 


a long lonely death 

over a lifetime 

of tiny regrets