My Dirty Mind

My dirty mind is right between the eyes
following it's own tributaries into a vast shoreless ocean
following your dirty mind
and hers, and his...
little white boats we are
calm or tossing
crossing paths or solitary.


The water rises in the steam of our imagination
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Chuck's Friday

Let's go dancin'
my feet are shod with good times
born ninety years ago
1921 to be exact
but youthful as today’s movement

the street is the scene of our uprising
sun playing second fiddle
to the incomparable piccolo
of starlings and palm fronds

we've only that white line
to divide us
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Father

Image manipulated from here

I spread my barbs

unfurling all that anger

on velvet leaves of passivity

until I catch the crack

of your eye

and the single tear

you thought I'd missed

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Insistence

It is a moat

we’ve dug with the shovel of our mouths

swallowing the soil of each retort

planting the seeds of our point

until we’ve grown the forest

but lost the trees
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Highbrows

Image found here





My words were sweet

arsenic of insincerity

she ate slowly

from my lips

and of them

fed my highbrows

with manure

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Pulled Under



by Anthony Duce


He plays bass
so fluid I am current
and with me
comes all the living colors
they would have been
could they float
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The Shape Of It

i think we give pieces of our heart away

if we knew the length of their residence elsewhere

perhaps we would be more cautious

but then we would wind up with nothing but our whole heart,

just an organ pumping

rather than the flute it becomes

memories fingering windpipe holes

like yesterday's reasoning and tomorrow's knowledge

perhaps there is no getting over

only through

as seems right

love is not something to be overcome, but to become one with

reconciled in either the having

or the have not

decks delt, cards stacked 

but there remains the space of it

the shape it was, and always is

melodic and missing.

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