March On the way Out

March Shorts 2009


Everywhere I seem to go there’s some jerk-off using this word trying to sound so educated and articulate. All I ever hear is that if irritate and exaggerate were to

masturbate you’d end up with is exacerbate.


Sound Umpire Advice

  Listen kid, don’t you go shooting me snotty looks from the back of the mounds because you don’t agree with the way I’m calling them.

   You want to paint corners ?

   Get a brush.


Lost Rhetorical Question Song Lyric

Did you ever dream lucky baby

And wake up just cold and had ?


Royalty Check

There is a royalty check

stuck in the back of this notebook

It’s not much

but more than I ever got before

It won’t really cover anything.


Still the idea it exists back there

in this notebook like the dozens

of ones I’ve scribbled in bars

in the past thirty years

with my name of it

is and of itself

A reality I could have only dreamed

about once a long time ago.


It cost plenty to have it appear

back there now poking

out of those last pages

and nobody

but nobody knows

about what I do

just what it has cost

to get it back there


Daylight Stealing Time

So we lose a little time

in the wee hours tonight

We steal the hour here.

Conspire to hide.

O Please don’t wonder where.


Squirrel away an hour in secret

Pull backwards at the hands of the clock face.

Tick along with me.

Let’s make the red finger talk

as it passes us by again and again.

Tonight we turn back time

Won’t you turn back some time with me.

Like crisp clean chilly starched sheets.

Peel away the day

and slip in between.

Won’t you turn your back on some time with me

upon that maybe once perhaps we just might agree.

We might steal that time

hide in the lost hour

put it away somewhere

where they’ll never find it

never even miss it.

In the cool clear evening

after all the daylights busy color has faded

and all that is left is just us

clearly a jail break

a common escape

is in progress.

I hear sirens in the distance.

I see sirens in your eyes

They report an all points bulletin.

The authorities are baffled.

As we speak

Roadblocks are being planned.

Officers will produce snapshots

of our expired images

The ones we once looked like then

in the silence of the hours

we stole.

Our crime

is public knowledge.

The purpose of the theft

was always open

to common conjecture.

The motive attributed

to persistent desire.

It is after all 

the only clues

we will leave them with

even if

our fingerprints

are all over each other.

After we are all over everything.

Won’t you turn your back

on some time with me

upon that maybe

just once perhaps we might agree.

To get away with

one secret perfect crime. VQ Gridville 2004

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