Razor blades and finger nails
walk the contours
of your body
Seeking Rivers of blood
hoping to be a crack
in your dissatisfaction
Heavy exhalation
isn’t enough.
(c) 2016 March
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Curtains drawn
Disillusion burned
into ash trays
Smoking into
The spin of nothingness
Contemplating
Women
(c) 2016 March
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Our torrent affair
could only end
in liquid cruelty
Undulant sorrow
Immense and dizzying
Sweet and repugnant
with each transgression
Kissing oblivion
(C) 2016 March
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Lonesome men
Lounge in Alcatraz
Dragged up
Off their ass
Battered & crazy
Drugged up on Benzedrine
Screaming skeletons
Staggering to psychotherapy
Consciousness
Like a harlequin
Running its mouth
With no words
It’s all a pantomime
Conforming ourselves
Hopeless
Into cemeteries
(C)2016 March
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Unappreciated hearts
become frozen
till they resemble
only absence
But consider
The same is true
Of hearts
Too much loved
(C) 2016 March
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As they bring you in
Tears will flow eternal
And vague regrets
Will invade our skin
And you will not be there
To tame the itch
Candles will be lit
Tempting us to embrace
The quiet
of your absence
(C) 2016 March
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Curtains drawn
Darkness
Enchanting ghosts
Of kisses past
From a love
Not built to last
Falling into
Idleness
Feeble hearts
Dressed in blue
Waiting for
Breath renewed
With
Butterflies
In stomachs
Approaching
Absence
(C) 2016 March
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Absence crystallized
In calm oceans
While you froth grievous
Inside
(C) 2016 March
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Boys dropped out of school
Gloom broadcast on their faces
Old exuberance long gone
Weathered and worn
Stubbing cigarettes
Under ill-fitting shoes
Ducking from another punch
Milling about
Fists swung in anger
Another blow meticulously swayed
Newsboys dressed in flatcaps
& plaid
Another fight from hanging on
Around street corners too late
Suited up going to fathers funerals
Sunglasses to hide eyes ablaze
With fury and sadness
Cigarette butts stubbed out
Along with their secrets
And they’ll tell ‘em
That this is how men are made
(C) 2016 March
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I’m an urban lumberjack
Wielding an expresso
And an axe
Got a roll of smokes
Always share ‘em with my mate Jack
And he spoons ‘em off to our friend Mack
Jacks wife and I
Got that sexual tension
We do the dance
When we get the chance
Jack don’t mind
After all, I’m the one with the axe!
(C) 2016 March
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