life, death & the in-betweens

honesty shot through the prism

of a rapier wit,

poetry from laughter and life.

--

life is on the edges,

still we too often cling to the cushioned walls

afraid of death omniscient beyond

while killing ourselves so subtly within.

why does it take the loss

of a loved one to give us pause

in this slow-motion dance of subliminal waste?

--

that fairness not be fair weathered

or kindness out of vogue,

that searching wanderlust go walking with a quiet resolve.

--

that simply to be and be hilarious

might just be the most important,

the most caring,

most healing thing of all.

for Larry, RIP.

plumbing supply chain blues

My father danced

from the gallows of life,

a Don Draper swinger

gone to advertising seed.

Should you find yourself in need

of plumbing supplies

or second hand cirrosis

and can wait out a Strand Hotel

bender or two,

come on down to North Everett cira 1969

and darken our door -

my daddy-o, he can oblige;

this hep cat pappy,

with his dad gone mad skills.

Sweet sounds of sickness

and Aqua Velva whiskey fragrance,

deep thrusts of indigestion

and tortured circumspect;

the fury weighed heavy

on this slightly animated corpse

but he'd be glad to help you out

for just a taste

of formaldehyde distilled.

coyote smile

It's February lately,

she's April in a hurry.

Lost in a winter

of temperate goodbyes,

I rush to her chilly

but coyote smile.