THE FOREST MOONS & HAPPY SEAS

stretched out 

in the darkness

listening to 

our beige hum 

& dogs barking 

garden fences away

~

& i fall 

into a dream 

of forest moons
that only yield
to happy seas
in the doldrums 

of their equator

AT THE MORNING DESK

clock in

&

hammer down

&

type up the giants in the mist

~

the level of fruitlessness

that could 

end this

meat reportage

i have yet to discover

WHILE SPAIN PLAYED SAUDI ARABIA

to a 1992 ten pence coin
i say heads i recover my health

& i toss it 

& its heads

& i say heads i will become monied

& i toss it

& its heads

& i say heads there is a god

& i toss it

& its heads

well i love its optimism 

& asking nothing of it
i toss it again
& its tails 

as if in confirmation contrast

of all the heads before

HOSPITAL TEA BREAK POP #3

home made
bacon muffins

nuked midmorning
in the office microwave

the lemony steam
a damp paper towel

brown sauce surfing
on the melting gold

& nurses comment incredulous
hungry & jealous & smoking

superkings out the fire door

on a monday morning in may

MALL POPLING #3

 

wearing the only waxed duster

in the contiguous south east

& with the widest smile 

of the maddest glee

hes marching 

gunslinger style

past Smiths into Boots

finger pistols shooting

all the dr peppers

in the fridge