A Sure Sign
A sure
sign you’re
not getting
any younger
is when
your mouth
becomes a
place into
which a
woman no
longer
wishes to
slide her
tongue.
Category Archives: poems & short jabs
a sure sign
Filed under poems & short jabs
the king has summoned his people
The King Has Summoned His People
Enters the
Crown Prince.
Enters the
Court Jester.
Enters the
Queen Mother &
her illegitimate
children.
In comes
the Inquisition,
precursor
to the
polygraph.
A knight
or two
home from
the Crusades,
dreamy-eyed
with opium.
A full-sized
replica of the
Golden Hinde,
pulled on
rolling logs
by the
indigenous in
loin clothes.
The Arch
Bishop & his
cute little
altar boys,
a wandering
minstrel
singing falsetto,
six sculptors
& their
handy work,
offsprings
of Leonardo.
A tribe of
head hunters
from Borneo
an armadillo &
an anteater.
The King has
summoned his
people,
& the
hall goes
still as
he clears
his throat &
begins to
speak.
Filed under poems & short jabs
a survival guide for young girls in a sex slave world
A Survival Guide for Young Girls in a Sex Slave World
Run little Sheba
little Sieglinda
Chiquita
sweet child
of the Ozarks
& don’t take
rides from
thin men in
vans with
black tinted
windows.
It’s all
out there
in a world
gone flat in
defiance of
gravity &
once you
fall off the edge
the hushed nightmare
begins.
These things
you learn by
putting your
hands over
your eyes &
listening to
no one.
Then it
just comes,
like small jolts
of epiphany,
knotted up in
compression.
Anyone who can
help you will
turn his head
when you
look his way.
This is a
sign to
follow him
into the shadows.
Do it &
never once
let your
guard down.
Filed under poems & short jabs
a rare moment in warfare
A Rare Moment in Warfare
The chieftain came
riding out of
the trees &
across the
corpse-strewn
field in Germania,
bareback on a
candy-striped
unicorn.
The Roman general
raised an arm,
& the archers
held their fire.
Filed under poems & short jabs
suicide clutch harley
Suicide Clutch Harley
Some guy
just rode
by on a
twenty thousand
dollar black
Kawasaki
dressed in
black leather
from head
to toe
& wearing
a black
helmet
with a
black
face guard.
He looks
like Darth
Vader, &
back in
the day
of the
suicide clutch
Harley with the
tank shift,
dressed in
faded jeans &
oily boots,
we would
have run
him in
the ditch.
Filed under poems & short jabs
you know you’ve got it if it makes you feel good
You Know You’ve Got It If It Makes You Feel Good
Premises and paradigms.
Perspicacity &
pigeon-toed maidens.
El Jefe & his
brave caballeros,
riding in
on their
prancing
white stallions.
All language is
coded &
locked down
in cadence.
The universe was
just waiting to happen:
a-one &
a-two &
a one-two-three…
BLAM!
Chord with this now
said Bojangles
to his old dog Charlie,
& Charlie put his
head back and howled.
Filed under poems & short jabs
