Tuesday, January 30, 2018


In honor of the Blood Moon, I'm sharing a freebie with you from my book: Last Tango In Timbuktu.

Shelter along the cove
palm fronds fretting in the wind
sun beats down
eyes flutter behind darkened lenses
no secrets revealed

Dancing in the courtyard
summer smoke and gin blossoms
arms akimbo for kabuki
no tangos
or wild gang-bangos
for the faint of heart

Along the beach lovers entwine
like snakes that strangle their prey
love me a little
love me a little more
I'm not a lollipop
I'm an all day sucker

We take no prisoners
nor photographs of these encounters
for pride is like a ride
on a lizard's eyelid
the shutter clicks
when you forget to smile

Beyond the fire coyote waits
eyes burning like binary stars
in the morning he will escape
with a piece of your soul

Fair wind and a calypso beat
requiem for the summer's heat
magic spells and voodoo dolls
and dead men smell no tails

Crumpled napkins with lipstick traces
pedal to the metal
heading for open spaces

The parade never waits

Waves pounding the shore
echo the emptiness
phone abandoned in its cradle
like a waif on your doorstep

Staring into your breakfast bowl of Wheat Chex
you are reminded that you are back to square one
standing pat while the river of dreams drifts along in your eyes

Mata Hari
Harry Caray
Howdy Doody

Peewee Herman
Ethel Merman
Punch and Judy

It takes a village
to conduct a really good orgy

Will you stand vigil here
or will you run with the pack
into the black heart of the night?

Already you see the men are restless
and the horses nervous with laughter

The time is ripe
and you are no civilian
in this war

Assemble your brigade
we strike at dawn

Tuesday, January 16, 2018


old couples
meandering through the park
make me smile
though I'll never be fifty percent
of that kinda awesome twosome

peeps with pooches
the more the better
make me smile
'specially when they choose me
to spontaneously lick
(the pooches not the peeps)
when I happen along
though all the lickers
I've known up close and personal
have slurped their last of me

 speakin of which...

young couples 
with strollers
movin along the path
always conversing
about somethin
cuz they've got a lot goin on
in their world
make me smile
though no one's ever called me "daddy"
'cept a couple of floozies
back in the day
along the way
along the path 
I choose to walk alone 
but in my solitude
there's still some gratitude
still some reasons
every day
to smile

cuz it finally hit me ya know
that when I pop outta dat bed
each mornin
and still be hangin
still upright
and not uptight
that it's only by The Grace
it's only by The Grace
it's only by The Grace
say it again
it's only by The Grace
so come what may
I'll always find a reason
don't even need 
a freakin reason
to smile 

Tuesday, January 9, 2018


The story has been told before...
our intrepid host stops the film
described as a dream of dark 
and troubled things
for lively discussion with experts.

Essential questions we ask about life

while confronting truths
that didn't fit in with our holiday schedules.

When all hell breaks loose

as the Reptilians in the balcony
begin to shout: Bring on the crazy cat clips!

A hush falls over the assemblage

as the Lizard King's voice 
reverberates through the hall: 

Life, as you know it, is a dirty fairy tale...bittersweet at best...when our time comes, we'll drive electric cars, support compassionate causes, abolish pay toilets, and live in elaborate 
communal herpetariums! 

You grieve for irretrievable things

your whole lives long
then wax philosophical
in a joint like this 
when that's really the long 
and the short of it

Then slowly, one by one,

as the realization sinks in,
the peeps begin to rise
and file out of the theater
in a sad and dejected looking way
as a series of crazy cat videos
seemingly endless
careen across the screen
for those still insisting upon
their full money's worth.

Tuesday, January 2, 2018


To kick off the new year, here's a freebie for you from my book Last Tango In Timbuktu 

The rain came before sunrise
in steady sheets
like the one I was trying
to pull over my head

I was just out of a dream

where I was whispering into the ear
of a woman who seemed to be
 my counselor
or confidante
a dream where I had speculated about
the sex of a pencil

It was long
a real woody
and it could prick you
when it's sharp
no wait...erase that

It was worn 
past the last hurrah
like a space ship
in the shape of a cigar

(And when hers was worn down to the nubbin
Sylvia Plath stuck her head in the oven)

It made so much sense to say
that I am my brother's keeper
but of course the other side had just claimed
that we'll get you to the promised land
in just a little different way

Let us fly and make our own mistakes

don't need a hand or a handout
of course that's the way where
crash and burn
 is followed in sequence by
oh shit
oh well

The rain had no intention
of letting up
as dawn's curtain lifted slowly
the new year now within shouting distance

And in the dream I was giddy
as I breathed into her ear

that I didn't know whether to laugh
or to cry

The culmination of a lifetime
of fledgling flight

Don't be concerned
if I crash and burn