Love, romance
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Roooomance
Loin cloth, tuxedo; so many moods, so few nights we have to ourselves Continue reading
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Valentine Poem #5 (The Definitive Valentine Poem: for Amy)
Young and beautiful Someday your looks will be gone When the others turn you off Who’ll be turnin’ you on I will, I will, I will, – The Captain and Tennile, Love Will Keep Us Together We have been together twenty years nineteen of those as husband, wife skeptics be damned; we knew early it… Continue reading
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Calling my wife at work (Valentine Poem #4)
Can I take you to lunch? May I take you upstairs? I have only an hour to go where I desire to be taken – taking time for longings, for lunch – taking time is tempting as you tempt me, letting me be taken to lunch or taken elsewhere, always hungry because I am always… Continue reading
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Old photos
Dad, playboy? More a sexual revolution Bolshevik – sans cap. Continue reading
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A revision from the dusty recesses of the Marchives: Valentines Poem #2
Poets have often likened love to roses summer days other sundry natural phenomenon I see love in more esoteric yet practical ways; love is tartar sauce. It looks like hell you have no idea what might be in it yet you always seem to find it tasty. Continue reading
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Valentine Poem #1
My first Valentine was an always smiling, friendly, never-ever mean girl named Linda she had long, blonde hair typically tied up in bouncy pigtails bound with basic-color rubber bands, not a shiny ribbon or the big, gaudy, pink-plastic barrettes the snooty, untouchable first-grade girls favored We shared cards and candy conversation hearts in our chair-back… Continue reading
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A poem from the recesses of the Marchives
Sharp observation I have a recurring dream where I awaken, naked, on a stainless steel operating table. Unable to move, I can still speak. I ask the cutting coroner what it was that killed me. Without missing a beat, he removes a bullet, tweezer-dropping it with a ‘clang’ into a shiny tray. “You, sir, died… Continue reading
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Campfire poem #49
A log of pine a mug of coffee and thou Omar, I am not. Continue reading
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Aniversary 18
sultry ‘hello’ still achieves what a closet of negligees cannot Continue reading
Chaotic Zen, A'la Carte 