Bullet and Flower

So, I am impolite

I am polite.

As father was with, an open clenched kitten’s paw.

Honed to strength of aged claw.

OUR only diagnosis a home where the fishy scales dry…warm and raw

Both my father and I…a seamstress, a tailor with a dull needle. 

Tethered together…venomous spelunkers in a  dry well.

Scratched in tongues so wide and red. 

OUR bloodline canvasses a coyote grey and turquoise blue. aligned to the crimson lies we tell….

From outside a generation’s thought tanned knuckles, rosebud cheek, thorny wishes down a wishing well.

From outside a generation’s thought, I lay in a casket made of crib ribbons and no pillow for my head.

And, my mother’s resourcefulness vows to lay with the dead.

Fractured Like Me

Angry tears rain upon abandon houses.

It is here comfort feels at home…most.

Ghastly stairwells replace stubbed toes.

Eerie bulkheads surrounded with infected weeds replaced by the belt and the knee.

Heroic crosses dressed in blood replaced by screams louder than nothingness.

What is not replaced…

The uneven sunrises and the awkward sunsets.

Cannot you see,

‘they are fractured just like me.’

Fragments and figments of is left…

these are the buildings…

these are the visions…

that understand me best.


Understanding the Blues

The screams would never jostle me awake.

Loud torrents of torment would lull me to sleep.

Mind over matter came with no consistency.

Games of pretend came and went…offering little tranquility.

My bed became a soft rock…providing little cover.

Wild words…a free for all.

Enough so that…I could understand the blues.

Truth of Youth

It had been a hectic travel…

filled with disbelief and crucifixes.

A cross upon a land…I did not understand.

Had I been hardened by the age of early youth?

Had I been shown that my truth…was not the truth?

Looking out at these dismal days…imageedit__6908219087.jpg

Afflictive moments where pinewood boards had been a place to play.

Strong enough, if I had been…

the cross would have been my friend.


Six Ways to Escape Unnecessary Conversations during the Holidays:

Aunt Sue,

“So, what have you been up to?  Are you working?”

Sue knows damn well my wife is disabled.  And, though she works more than 8 hours a day keeping our family of four legged children…fed, watered, cleaned, vaccinated, etc.  Aunt Sue insists on starting every conversation with…

“Where are you working?”

Megan (my wife)

“I’ve started handing out clean needles at the homeless camp down by the river.  Unfortunately, on my way back from the woods the other day.  I had mistakenly stabbed myself with a used syringe.  And, now I have a mysterious cough…The doctor is running tests but everything is still up in the air!”

That was it!  End of story.  Aunt Sue, the republican, AARP Zumba Instructor and vocal advocate for spending more money than you have…left the conversation.  In a big hurry!

Six Ways to Escape Unnecessary Conversations during the Holidays:

  • Use irresponsible speech.  Go into the conversation knowing someone’s weak points.  Such as, debating the pro’s and con’s of lesbian sex with the very catholic Sister-In-Law.
  • Have a short fuse.  Display quick and severe angry outbursts.
  • Cry!
  • Speak with a tone that promotes conflict.  “Did you hear that by 2050, the world as we know it, will be uninhabitable?”
  • Pop pills with a glass of hard alcohol.
  • There is never any ‘true’ forgetting in most families.  Be very stringent about bringing every sorted detail of the family tree…into the conversation.  “So, has Mike been released?  How long will he have to be on the sexual offender’s list?  Is that list something that’s made public?”