he is a coward

August 27, 2007

he once stopped by
and promised to resolve
my shattered bones.

he dried my tears,
placed a candle in my heart,
but not a flame.

he proclaimed,
I will never abandon you.
then he left.

he left to have sex
with violence – like John Wayne
slapping a woman.

although he showed up,
he never returned.
again and again.


I heard “oral sex”

August 19, 2007


I heard “oral sex”
ten thousand times more
than “terrorism”.

I saw her face
ten thousand times more
than bin Laden’s.

If only it had been otherwise…

photo source:

with each wave
these last moments
bathe our consciousness

there was nothing else…

(but jobs are waiting)

put the tiny shells
in your pockets
I tell the boys

so the big ones won’t crush them.

two buddies –
they are eleven
never to be eleven again.

the breeze hides my tears.



August 13, 2007


so many years –
I was thinking all along
we were made to last

artist: Bruce Wood

the man on the square

August 6, 2007

he thrusts his hands
into an unseen box

turning this – grabbing that
he pulls out demons

Boys bet dollars at the wheel –
detached from any holy values.
Greed and thrill keep their interest
as calculated.

The public address blares
a Michael Jackson crotch clutching song.
It can be heard inside the empty church.

Grandmothers swill down halushki with butter.
Young girls strut about with killer legs,
blowing off the uncool.