Category Archives: poems & short jabs

me & my angels

Me & My Angels

How many
angels have
two left
feet &
can they
still dance
on a
pin head?


Just how
big are
angels anyway?


Do they
have natural
rhythm?


Where do
they go
when they
cash in
their chips?


Back to heaven?


On to
the next
casino?


Up to
their room
in the
elevator?


How many
people meet
the love
of their
life in
an elevator?


Do they
have sex
& bring
forth an
angel?


I’ve gone
places where
angels fear
to tread.


They catch
the first
plane out
of there
when they
see me
coming–
angels don’t
have wings
to fly with.


See what
happens when
you take
their wings
away?


You no
longer know
what they
look like.


Here,
let me
draw you
a picture.


I fell
in love
with an
angel on
an elevator
in Vegas.


We rode
all the
way to
the top
& then she
flew away.


She had
wings
after all.


I went
back down
to the
casino
& put
all my
chips on
red.
That was
it for
me &
the angels.

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run like hell

Run Like Hell

If someone
tells you
we’re all
in this
together,
run like
hell.

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sharks & dolphins

Sharks & Dolphins

Leonard Cohen
is a
dolphin.


I’m a
shark.


We swim
the same
ocean.


Leonard jumps
thru hoops
& always
seems
to be
smiling.


People stroke
his nose
& feed
him small
fish.


I have
to stay
in constant
motion or
I die.


Occasionally
we cross
paths far
out at
sea.


Leonard streaks
along just
under the
surface.


I glide
further down
with the
grace of
a carnivore.


When the
moon is
full we
swim side
by side,
sometimes
as far
as Tahiti.

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ray of hope

Ray of Hope

A skinny
kid maybe
fifteen
just walked
in front
of my
van on
the hill
clutching
a paperback
a good
two inches
thick with
his index
finger jammed
in about
halfway thru
to mark
his place,
looking down
at the
ground as
he made
his way
thru the
jeers &
catcalls from
the pickup
& loud
music crowd,
heading for
the far
side of
the water
tower where
he can
be alone
& read.


He’s the
first ray
of hope
I’ve seen
in a
long time.

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pierced with sunlight

Pierced with Sunlight

There’s a
conspiracy.


A plot.


Foul intentions.


Something bad
with an
evil heart.


Or maybe
it’s just
me, up
to my
old tricks.


Blame it
on the
sun glinting
off tin
rooftops
the time
of day
year the
disappearance
of youth.


But here
I sit
on my
fortress hill
the sun
ricocheting
off of
tin &
windshields
off the
dashboard
of my van
while I
record my
right to
live.


What life
has boiled
down to:
a yellow
pad a
pen &
my eyes
pierced with
sunlight.

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happy people

Happy People

Happy people
have no
regrets which
makes unhappy
people resent
them &
eventually hate
them &
then happy
people have
to crank
things up
a notch
to keep
unhappy people
in their
place by
laughing &
pointing a
happy finger
at them
& saying
stuff like,


“You poor
unhappy sap!
Get a life!”


That’s when
the backlash
starts in
ernest but
happy people
can see
trouble coming
a mile
off &
they
sidestep it.


Happy people
let unhappy
people take
the fall
for them.

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