let there be


light comes
cautiously
creeping in
like my old
cat as he
raced up on …
something
lurking.
a quick move,
lightning speed,
a heart’s sigh,
then all shine.

cocked


sliding forward,
knees knocked out,
he pops his cock
to talk to me.

not warbling
morning songs
or squawking
warnings,

it settles silently
in its nest
protected by
a trouser’d arbor

to feather ruffle.

anesthesia


everyone said that I’d be out like a light,
switched off, wouldn’t remember nothing;
I looked forward to it having had a few thinks
on the mind that I’d soon like to forget,
or at least have a few hours respite from.

oh, but not so fast lady,
no narcotic can numb you.

the needle was real enough that stuck in
to push tranquilizer and opiate through;
I didn’t feel the doctor’s hand on my shank,
but I saw everything that he examined
magnified so he could navigate his instrument.

you’ll not be taken
by what they’ve got.

lying in an hour of incarcerated recovery
hearing every discharge, every snore,
tied to a machine in one or two ways,
my mind, lucid and fluid, felt focused
as it wandered to its current playlist.

stronger than unconsciousness,
it seems to be my drug.

it is not a spell of death-like trickery,
it doesn’t put me under or out,
it rises and falls and puzzles and claws
every bit of me ‘til nothin’ seems left,
then it starts all over from the start.

oh lady, who are you kidding?

you want all of the feelings,
you want to put your finger into
the middle where it hurts and poke.
what good is having felt so much,
to then feel nothing at all.








stray


a cat sits still
looking up
at the tree
undisturbed
by calls
signaling his
presence.

pesky wings,
out of stillness
claws will fly
silencing them.

sharp


dull knives
don’t cut.
dull knives
need sharpened.

skilled hands,
not mine,
were asked
for help.

my knives,
still dull,
can’t cut.

he asked,
I did.

he wanted,
I found.

he anything,
I jumped.

my knives,
still dull,
can’t cut.

dull knives,
cut me.





lost boy in the hood


his tears spilled
over the black top
in the cross walk
as cars moved on.

are you lost?
‘yesssssssss’

stopping to see
where he belonged,
his little shoulders
begged for comfort.

it’s ok.
we’ll find help.

she came over
the playground splittin'
‘you not gonna snatch
that boy, hear’

no, I’m not going
to take the boy.

‘he belongs to his
cousins who went
over there, I seen ‘em.’

where do you live?
‘over there at grandmas.
I can’t go there,
I be in trouble.’

‘he alright here.
I seen who he with.’

the cops pulled
over, watching me.
protecting me.

‘he alright here.
I seen who he with.’

sweet boy,
I should’ve
snatched you.
I saw how
you quaked
with fear
for living
in the hood.

I seen you.
I didn’t see
nothin’ else.






despair


it settles heavier
by the day
enveloping me

where’s the sun
to burn it off