Just do it

No one lingers on open ground in Syria,
And the buildings are silent.

The young man steadies his hand and shoots again.

It is Christmas Eve, and his
Yellow T-shirt – Just Do It T-shirt – is his only reminder,

Of normal people,

And Christmas stockings,
And of his mother.

His brown Uncle says he is fighting for his niece,
His manhood, but
The woman who shot,

In his direction fully clothed was fully,
Female,

Fully functional.

The bombs have destroyed all the buildings and the shooting,
Almost everyone,

And,
The meaning on the T-shirt is not his, but

He takes aim and shoots again.

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Published in: on December 25, 2017 at 10:01  Leave a Comment  
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Moonlight on portico


Who invented the potato chip,
Taking note of the way,
Flickering video light pushes,
Over moving flesh,
And empty crisp bags and bits of popcorn,

And buttered fingers,
Moans, and buttered tongues,
And wine glasses smothered with frantic lip marks,

Over car keys,
(Both sets),
And wallets in the kitchen,
And handbags down the corridor,

Over carpet,
And high-heeled shoes,
Jackknifed in the corner,

Over desperate thighs,
Over scattered chips,

Who,
Allowed you to roam the cosmos naked?

I am water on Mars;
If you look for me you will find me,

In the next lover you meet.

-short evocative poetry-

Published in: on September 10, 2015 at 11:33  Leave a Comment  
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Keep me out of this one

keep-me-out-of-this-one

the lone yellow pebble bore witness
to the abduction that took place at midnight.

The man was bound and gagged and led away as
women wept.

Keep me out of this one.

Did you know that a bear needs twenty-seven,
Square miles of forest, to live?

Keep me out of this one.

The woman cut the balls off the man who raped her.
Keep me out of this one.

Published in: on June 21, 2015 at 16:56  Leave a Comment  
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