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​​ Useful Poetry
 
I read the poet’s manuscript
and saw this line,
“Waiting for something
Hoping for anything.”
It is the type of brilliant phrase
that people would read
on buses and trains,
if people still used
buses and trains.
But I am confident
it will be read in airports
by people going to see other people
or those who are getting away
from everyone.
It will have significance 
during break-ups
and given as gifts
to impress.
It will be quoted at weddings
and funerals,
lines will be stolen 
by those who call themselves poets.
It will be opened over and over
again and again
and it will be opened only once
and placed on a shelf with other books
with crisp spines and unstained pages.
Don’t take it personally,
pages will also get covered in
Gin and Tonics, baby food,
spaghetti sauce, birthday cake,
dark chocolate, red wine and white,
and Jaeger Bombs.
 
Other times,
your book will solve problems
such as an unbalanced pool table,
or crooked washing machine.
Don’t take that part personally either,
just remember, poetry is supposed 
to be useful. 
​Slut Shaming
 
It was a wild one.
That much I know.
Now, first light of morning,
unclear how we arrived
in these unfamiliar surroundings,
clear on what happened though,
clearer still on the consequences
that await,
trying to be quiet,
I say out loud,
“You fucking slut,”
as I wash my face
avoiding the mirror. ​
​Past Life of a Pirate
 
Sitting on a deck
having lunch,
reading poems.
I hear parrots
somewhere above me.
I look up,
then around,
this way and back
unable to spot them
but they call out. 
It must be the pirate part 
of my personality
that attracts them.
Teasing me with reminders
of what I could have gotten away with.
Their songs and squawks 
cause me to drift and float away
to ports of palm trees and sea breezes,
hidden treasures,
a map full of x’s
that I’ve never found
but feel like
home. 
Moving In
​
There are 
four chambers
to the human heart.
You have 
moved into
each one
of mine.
 
I hope you relax,
stay awhile,
get comfortable,
leave a toothbrush,
some clothes,
your favorite books
anything you like.
No need to clear anything out,
there is plenty of space.
 
The place hasn't 
been lived in
for years. 
​Souvenirs
 
Nowadays, 
all those loves,
those real attempts
sit like souvenirs
on a high shelf
with memories and moments
piled up around them,
taking up space.
 
I take them down
and dust them off
every once in awhile
and hold them tightly
letting the big feelings 
wash over me
like a rainstorm,
trying to get back to those places.
 
But souvenirs are just things
we hold on to 
from places and people
that fade away in time
and besides,
who wants to be surrounded
by reminders
of all the pretty places
we will never return to 
again?
The Prisoner
​
I can still smell you
on my pillowcase,
in the comforter 
and sheets.

Thought about
doing laundry
but decided
to keep you
with me
just a little 
longer.
Riding Giants

Each new love affair
is like
standing in front of
a 50 foot wave--

it looked doable
from shore.
I Fell In Love With a Poet

I fell in love
with a poet.
Which, I admit,
will be a problem
because of my
massive competitive
poetic nature.

But not just because
she is beautiful,
which she is,
but because 
she can write,
like a hammer
to an anvil.

In fact, 
her words are so good
that I will end up
stealing them one day.
Not whole poems,
but a word or two,
a line she says
when we wake up
in the hungover morning
or as she reaches over me
for a cocktail napkin,
pen in one hand,
burning cigarette 
in the other
without spilling her drink,
the coolest person
in the place.

And when I am onstage,
and she hears my new poems
they will feel
strangely familier to her,
she will tell me that
she loves my new stuff

and I will smile,
pull her close,
kiss her
and say
that it is all 
because of her.  
Love Crazy

I have accepted 
the fact that 
I only fall in love 
with insane 
and unstable women.

Smoke rising from my house,
cut my brakelines,
total my truck
while smiling
type of insanity.

Some can hide it
for days, even months
like a sniper waiting 
for the perfect killshot.
Others don’t even 
make it home 
before my tires are slashed,
my face is busted open
and we are on the side of the road
with her screaming 
how it’s my fault
because I didn’t 
read her mind
to know she really did want dessert
even though she said no...three times.  

I am a true sucker for beauty.
Never believing 
that crazy can be wrapped
in such a gorgeous package.

That is why
I have bought a police scanner.

My heart races
whenever there is a 5150 call
or a possible jumper on a bridge,
suspect off of her medication,
the domestic disturbance.

That’s when I go out 
looking for love
because I know
that when I find her
there will be at least 72 hours
with no sharp objects,
no access to flammables--
only pure, heavily-guarded,
well-sedated love.

And isn’t the beginning
the best part anyway?
​In Your Absence

When you are not around
I pile the pillows up
on your side of the bed,
to give weight
and shape 
to your absence.
But pillows
do not steal
all the blankets
or grab my hand
to hold it
in the middle of dreaming,
push me to the edge,
wrap around my body,
or wake me to say something
gorgeous.
I would rather you
take the blankets
and leave me cold
than leave me
​alone.
Semantics

"Did you sleep with her?"
     she demanded.

"No."

Walking away,
thinking,

"Sleep --
     is what I do
​           with you."
A Subtle Motivation

She owns a .357 Magnum,
tells me--
often
that she is a very good shot.

I have yet
to forget
a birthday
​or special occasion.
The Broadsides

I sent her two broadsides
of my poems.
She called,
said,
"Don't you think
the meanings of these poems
can be misinterpreted?"

I asked,
"by your husband?"

Heard her quiet,
"Yes."

I said,
"Then hang them
over the headboard
of your bed,
just to let him know
that somebody else
​loves you."
Spaghetti and Meatballs in America

I ate lunch at an Italian restaurant today
where the cooks were Black,
the busboys Mexican,
waitresses were blonde, afro'd or dreadlocked;
White, Creole and unknown,
New Orleans jazz played
and the whole place 
was run by an Asian family.

The tables were packed
with police, professionals,
firefighters, millennials,
military soldiers,
Cajuns, slackers,
lovers, fishermen,
families,
and one poet.

The food was fantastic.

If 38% of this country
does not believe
that this makes America great

then they deserve to go hungry.
Mile High Club

The stewardess
gave me 
her number
as the plane 
was taking off.

I smiled and thought
if the plane goes down--
our first date
would be quick
but definately
​a sure thing.
Masterpiece

She sees me grab my notebook
and head toward the door.
As she steps into the shower
she calls out:
"Write that masterpiece baby!"
I pause,
turn back,
and with one finger
I carefully write out
Y-O-U
in the steam 
on the bathroom mirror.

Then I walk out--
​done for the day.
Narcissist Lament

Looking into the mirror
he says,
"I'm looking 
for someone 
​just like you."
Love Safari

It was primal
the way we tracked
one another,
sometimes without
the other noticing,
sometimes
making sure
they did.

Until the day
when we finally
chased each other down
at full speed
falling upon
one another
which such a ferocious beauty
it appeared chorographed;
a life and death struggle
between lion and gazelle
predator and prey
and up until that moment
I always thought
​I was the lion.
Flowers at Midnight

I give you 
flowers at midnight
so that in the morning
when the sun hits them
you will see me
​in a whole new light.