June jumps ship


June update 2017- See you down the road –

Notice of Vacancy


 This is to inform you that

The poet is not in at the moment.

We have no idea where he is

And if/when he will be back.

He could be out drinking somewhere

By himself in a place where nobody

Can get at him.

(He’s been doing that a lot lately)

Last we knew he expressed he was

Just out of words he thought mattered much anymore.

His images and sentiments ignored or

Just coolly appraised from afar without any passion  .

It’s really starting to get to him.

He realizes fully well how little

This poetry matters most days.

If we hear from him

We will let you know.

Don’t expect much

He doesn’t

but that simple stupid bastard

still hopes for you.


June Fragments


What kind of Guy was He?   3.0

He was the kind of guy

That when he heard

Ice cream trucks

On summer evening

And all he wanted was

to buy somebody

One delicious cold moment.


Some people


Some people can write it

And others can do it

But only those

Who can hear it

Do anything with it

For you.


Let me tell you something there pal…

She had eyes

That were meant to be broken

Like a race horse named

I’ll take another.


1st Day of Summer


Solstice scimitar shaft

Slicing search torch

Gleaming longest burn

briefest pinnacle of light

declining seconds after

a descent commences….


The shadows start their

Encroaching erosion




Learn that lesson

From those who would

Build their world

On your ashes.


Did you Ever?


Look in the mirror

And see

A missing person?


Type Wrote


So here I am once again

Typing rope over the

Horseshoe Falls at night

shinning a spot light.


But not a tether in sight,


Sticking Points


You perfect prick bitch

Such an exquisite thorn

That impaled itself

Buried so deep into you

Where in the end all you

Could do was barely mange

To snap off the top

With the point still

Embedded deeply

And sure

Time I guess

Will allow the flesh to heal

Cover the surface

Of point of entry

But deep down inside

The missing fork end

Will remain burrowed intact

Like the one half

Of a pulled apart wishbone

With the only remaining question


Did you get your wish…..


Or just the short end of the stick ?


The Open Casket of your Face

Left only to wonder now

What was left for you

To see in the open

Casket of your face


When first light dawn

Whispers pale blue shadows

In a shaky wobbly hue

Filing the sky so gently


A pitcher of light trickling

Into the day bowl

Gradually like the touch

Of his hand upon your shoulder


Forgotten promises

Revived back to life

As you rolled over

Open your eyes for the first time.


But now there’s no one there

Quite the nothing next to you

Just the outside of the window

As God turns on the Mourning Doves


She fights now the memory

The feel

The touch

between the sheets.


Just eyes sent away

Just eyes taken away

And the voice of such

Fleeting rare poetry.


Silenced.                                                                                       6/2012


















Her Headstone


I went searching for you yesterday

And of you I could not find a trace.

Forgetting to remember

You died long before

The cyber hall of mirrors

Was born without your face.






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