Like Dogs


Like Dogs

There is no doubt the old gray dog

visited the deep caverns of hunger

not wanting to be chastised by important humans

he held his head low and detached from the mean streets

as dogs sometimes do.

Old gray hid in orchards and thickets of prickly bush

just to escape his smell and the smell  of his kind.

Isn’t it strange how we mimic sometimes

those so different than we, four legs

instead of two can run faster to ruination.



Ugly?  No one argues

with old ones in the camp.

Of what use are we,

growing creases and fault lines?

Not forgotten, not forgiven,

not named, we stand

crooked and unformed before

young painted warriors

riding horses made of graphite.

We are your future ghosts.

Our wisdom will haunt you.

You will repeat us.

Warriors never remain warriors.




Bare baby slapped
twisted and gagged
born in violence
scabbing belly button
here you are
what’s next
momma’s tit
daddy’s gift to you
more violence
welcome to this world
don’t cry
don’t be hungry
don’t need
for god’s sake
don’t need.






I wonder what I dreamt last night

did I sing a slurry song

full of love and dirty words,

sex on the rocks and losin’ my socks?


Did you paint my lips with yours

tequila love between our legs

burning fingers squeezing on a blunt

dreaming in a fog of purple haze?


I can’t remember my eyelids

dropping like curtains on a funeral bed

drop they did for now awake

I see what we both cared not to see.


The birthing of another day pitched

with crow eyed blackness

we forgot the ugliness of now,

our disentanglement of hope.

His Memory





The lantern cast shadows

like so many tentacles

reaching to each corner

in the dank dusty room.

An old woman stared sadly

a young man’s picture

framed and time yellowed

she once loved him fiercely.

Outside wind whispered life

through cracked windows

with eyes vacant

time robbed her of expression.

Secretly she kissed the picture

tucking it deep inside

her heart broken chest

and slowly began to die.

Freedom Finally


Freedom Finally

My fathers’ bones line my mind
were they brave
did they die free
did they shout to the world
today’s the day for us to die
to hell with tomorrow?

Did they fight the famine
with plows and seeds?
Did they love deeply
and kiss the earth
upon which they walked?
They left me nothing.

I only know the kings are dead
just as dead as my father
no deader no less than dust
in death they are twins
no royalty in the gloaming
of mausoleums.

Death undresses us all
when that final breath
calls us to the grave
equality finally
there is no skin
to separate the world.