Some men can do no more

She, not you, is the one
He, ethereal in April
He was present in May 
He stiff-armed you in June & July 
Accept this toughest of truths

She will become the one
He danced elsewhere in April
He was absent in May
He spat you poison in June & July 
Accept that he’s long done his worst

Such men can do no more

Game of One 


I will describe you as that

I will not name you

I don’t believe even you know

Your nature

You could be the willow, leaves dancing with the wind

I’ll accept no refuge from you 

Are you the oily-coated wolf, moving stealth beneath the moon

I will not run from you 

If you be the gravitational pull, with billions held captive

Watch me defy you

And shimmer too


Does it seem sensual?
What else could cause you 
To cast off your clothes,
To peel away as if parched 
The years of you and me
Of we? On your way
To some other’s carefree closet? 
Nevertheless, there’ll not be a Day
In which I won’t want
This old coat to cling ever so tight.


We can’t call them untrue

The shadows forever forced against concrete 

Are forever a part of you

But so too, was that moment before the bleaching

When you believed in the good air against your skin

Go back again, despite that it seems you can’t 

Receive what the lurking has to offer 

You In Mind

Once over her threshold
There was none of the fanciful 
Nothing intricate evident 
You thought

You’d expected to find woven, sugary things
Designed with you in mind
To draw your eye and the rest of you
Toward her

You’d hoped to see open, airy spaces
Undefined and to your liking
That you’d envision yourself there
For good

How shocking the sole, dusty cobweb 
Strewn and hiding across the ceiling
The boxes of dreams on bookshelves and….
The bed

Such horror the shut-tight windows 
Shushing provocative talk 
The exotic stashed away in drawers
The hollow 

Had you not left, but lingered 
With utmost courage, stayed to dig, to see
What permanence revealed, what life!
What joy