Some Antics

this one…

… is about sitting on a Los Angeles balcony, chill Sunday morning, surrounded by rooftops and power lines, sipping blonde coffee, one bleary-eyed neighbor stumbling out his front door with a leashed boxer … he glances up and nods, secretly obsessing over lack of time; no one yet knows that he will be discovered dead in his apartment from a drug overdose. A train sounds nearby … lint settled below the dryer vent stirs in the slight breeze … the black and white cat from two doors down traipses by on three legs … the looming sun bleaches the walkway below like a gateway to heaven.

kamikaze lovers

Of all the ways we destroyed each other,
agreeing to try again was my favorite.

The heady possibilities only lasted hours
(as long as the make-up sex, more or less),

but for that time, that ecstatic play at devotion,
we were victims only to the clock behind our heads,

its ticking barely audible.

xviii.

With no place to go,
it is her thoughts that wander.
She travels lightly.

xv.

Each day at this hour,
the sun is an angry boss
casting long shadows.

xvi.

He hates his routine
but hates more the idea
of confronting change.

xiv.

I pretend to smile.
But like a dog baring teeth,
I just seem afraid.

xvii.

When shit goes straight south,
I have no clue where to find
the worthwhile lessons.

xiii.

You want beautiful
then bemoan how ugly she is
when her mouth opens.

xii.

You’ll swear ‘forever’
then insist on betrayal,
mirth’s ruthless vacuum.

xi.

Slinky dresses may
repair a broken ego.
Naked always wins.