Tag Archive: death


The moment slips out of clasping

hands like it’s coated with soap suds

the moment when his silver soul

flees his bony cage and skips

town across the red sea and out

to make a permanent home

burrowed in the pocked and pitted

lunar expanse of my belly

along with the others

like jellyfish washing up

on the same seashelled

shore where they will live forever

as far as my infant mind

can tell and it is no great feat

to imagine a world of sand

so stingered that none dare

cross and frolic in the ocean.


The Wheel of Death!

I do believe the crooked scientists

got it mixed up this time, the SI

base unit of love must surely

be number of death-defying steel

feet in the air, tethered to my

twin brother in this riveting metallic

amnion. Let us measure our lives in

the number of fatal incidents painting

the ground where, ladies and gents,

you can clearly see there is no safety

net. Of course, the real heart-stopping

numerical identity is the sheer number

of axes of rotational motion, first two,

then three, then each of out atoms

turns to its own wild solar system,

unconstrained by the bars, free, in unison

with nothing but the whirling of my other half.

Mi vida loca

He was a sweet boy in front of a sell out crowd,

aiming to please, to knock sweat and bloody

trophies clean into the upper deck, well, no,


he was a sweet boy after his first loss, call

it fight of the year, call it too beautiful to live

in this blistering sea, wife and children be

damned, well, no,


he was a sweet boy in golden and red, a phoenix

crawling on skinned knees to the middle of any

dirt road that would have him, murder on either

side, well, no


he was a sweet boy blinking weeping infant’s eyes

against a new sun, still innocent, no concept of

the flames and spike strips already laid in front

of him by destiny, but feeble fists already raised

in instinct, to fight, to defend.