Urged

Posted on by

Prison guard, freedom writer
Daring me, “Escape.”
Air mask at altitude
E•ter•nal•ly late

You talked of Boardwalk wood
Dirty scoundrel’s lies
I walked a catwalk strut
Good•bye•ing your eyes

Felt Like Nebraska

Posted on by

Never could fathom the ’70’s
What 60’s Kids admired
Left this old soul bewildered
These eyes always seemed to need the sun
Mediocre music, odd politics
Old Paint horsepower commanded by screaming chickens
Oh, the Pacers that couldn’t keep up
But for that tripartite campout for peace
Those white-washed years are yours
Such conspiracy — felt like Nebraska

Bring me King Elvis
King of Cool — or Dean, if you please
War heroes at the helm
Courage in the courts
Damn right, Topeka — you’re wrong
Steel with Crowns
Jets
Chieftains
Bench seats so we can stay close on cold nights
California Dreaming, it seems…my zodiac sign

the outcome

Posted on by

maybe he’ll choose me

and not spend his paycheck at the bar Friday night

maybe he’ll choose me

and hold my hand in front of his friends

maybe he’ll choose me

and be more proud of my strong, strong intellect and kind, kind heart than my long, long legs and rockstar beauty that fades

maybe he’ll choose me

and listen — finally — to the daggers flying from his lips into my soul

maybe he’ll choose me

and withhold his wandering eyes from these fleeting days that we promised to us, and us alone

maybe he’ll choose me

and fight for me

when I, at last, chose me

because he didn’t choose me