When I found out they were humans
I never wanted to rape girls that got close enough to love,
unlike middle-school crushes and models’ airbrushes
that dreams are made of,
if I know you, I wouldn’t want to know you–biblically, that is:
imagining you bouncing and wincing upon my waist
if I tasted your dreams–your heart,
nothing else would tempt my tongue?
well, at least anytime soon.
Like the Guy that never got married
Running toward darkness
looking for someone who doesn’t have to smile,
searching for a mirror
so not to change myself–
too lazy to make time for devotions or
do I really want a wife that won’t be praying for me?
do I martyr myself with delusions of sacrifice:
breaking covenants and burning the cow
I’ve been given quite a few after all
to write poems about
if dreams are standards, this is a nightmare
can two reserved persons fall in love
and still love the world
like the Guy that never got married
Vulture
Down, down, I funnel
on the carcass of Prince Charming,
slain by poetry and mid-night wondering
into the darkness to glean,
gathering the strings of dreams
put on hold
for another spoonful of depravity.
Exploding the dreams we don’t share
Holy Sonnet I1
you have marched over all my plans,
chipping the concrete sidewalks into sand,
the paths mice and me have laid,
but are now decayed,
here below–
all mine–or so
until you took them away–
not you, never you, but your tortuous ways,
my dreams of domination
now flailing, fried bytes on a silicon floor,
you were not downloaded, but were in the light
that struck / and cooked / the comp’ /
as I clicked / to view / to join /
to think / I never thanked you
when it left me lonely;
another dazy-eyed other.
my dreams of dancing
now trampled confetti on a post-prom floor,
you were not seated, but were in the chair
that tripped / and tore / the tendon /
as I stood / to walk / to ask /
to think / I never thanked you
when she left me lonely;
another shady-eyed other.
my dreams of debauchery
now boot-imprinted beer on an Accord floor,
you were not at the wheel, but were in the car
that died / and burned / the belt /
as I steered / to go / to drive /
to think / I never thanked you
when he left me lonely;
another hazy-eyed other.
all mine–or so
until you took them away–
not you, never you, but your tortuous ways,
exploding the dreams we don’t share,
slamming a sledge against the foundation
of my present–wishes, sand, and water whipped:
minerals mixed in the vat called the human mind.
So manly-made they are, and me!
meddling in the presence of your prenatal plans.
1The pronoun, “I,” not the Roman numeral
The sadness
The urge
the tube top
the water
the beer
the muscles
alone
the dreams
the pool
the pain
the regret
alone
Child’s walls
Secrecy, shame plaster this child’s walls,
night arrives hushing humid air–
summer nights uncovered, I lie,
special, awaiting a silhouette,
Are my playground friends special?
They hold me to the ground,
I can’t cry. I was told “Don’t.” in a strained, raspy voice.
Water rises behind dams built 10 years past,
quiet, except grunting ghosts of breath, but
I can’t say I love you
until you thieve me.
For I have no, “No,”
between innocent nights of dreams.
The hands of the lesser
Would I let my kingdom fall into the hands of the lesser?
Would I allow my house to crumble?
I would watch as my dreams fall apart
And give way under the weight of selfish children not caring to kill.
Could I trust my child to the butchering animals and
I watch them dragged out and stoned on the stone streets?
Would I trust my jugular in the hands of 2nd yr. 2nd rate medical students
Stayed up late-partying-
Drooping scalpel in hand.
I love them all. I could I give my all up
To the mob to misuse and misguide.
I never could sacrifice my work and time for them
But You can?