Wetiko

I’d like to think the natives had it right,
that perhaps we’re really all diseased
and infected with the Wetiko virus.

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Politics

lend me your ears
I doubt that you would hear,
So lend me your wallet
And watch as the toilet

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The Shut-in’s Regrets

Go now and build your grave
against your life’s pitiful cries,
and when the end is drawing near

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New Beasts

Unlike all the beasts we have known,
murders, thieves, and miscreants
there now arises a wickedness
that cannot be measured in neat units
or fit into convenient little molds.

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Tolerance

We are now so tolerant,
so willing, that intelligent people
are unable to speak freely

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If All the Stars Should Go

I will predict that all could end.
That time should slip
and suns should burn

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A Pharaoh’s Rise – Revise #1

Among the world’s most pressing ruins
artifacts come rising as phoenixes
parting their form from the fierce driven wind
and sand that whirls around in its dying
hour of enjambment with earth and sky.

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Poets Bend Your Lines

We poets do not live
within the confines of margins;
poetry itself lives

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We Break

We break
as the newspaper
and anchorman read
teleprompter like,

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Wooden Frowns

Nothing is more disappointing,
nothing so uncared-for
as one that knows let down,

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The Net

I wished that love
was not far-flung
as foreign coasts

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What if?

What if I made you change
your ideologies today?
there’s babies soft and strange
and hungry human hearts at play
where algorithms dare not go.

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Gonzo is Dead

Oh, man, they’re gonna make it look like suicide
and type a note on how life is not all joyrides

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Artificial Intelligence

A.I. is the genie,
and we are the question;

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On a Bad Marriage

Everyday was exactly the same,
and the night did nothing,
and staying weighed me like an elephant

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Entropy

This is the law,
the rule of nature eternal,
the force for which we name

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The Playground of Life

There is a gypsy in her hair;
a place where I slip off to breath,
a paradise of spring and new born things,
a playground made of laughter’s glee.

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The ever decreasing minutes of day

The ever decreasing minutes of day
trickle like the granules in an hourglass;

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Do not Fall For a Man Like Me

Do not fall for a man like me
I am not blind; I do not see.
I am the reason storms have names

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Dad’s Shadow

On workdays he’d get up,
worn as the mattress’s springs,
and put on his dad face.
I’d sometimes see him through the cracks

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