my legs


with twelve

hours of running in place

to power yakuza money laundering



but today is rest

and not having to

hide the smell of death

as last nites scotch leaves me

to make room


balls hanging out the right leg

of my boxers

picking a couple days lint

from my belly

button cups

of coffee


its enough to make any man


letters with nowhere to go

and phones that never ring

bombs in the nite

and the little girls

that will never learn how to swim

jeffery dahmer

and sadaam housein

grain rotting in the silos

and the 37 that froze to death

in the streets of boston

this winter

bill gates

and what id do

for the money he makes

every time he takes a shit


and when hunger

overtakes wanting another


its close enough

to being glad

im alive


i smile

just a little

in relief

at being able

to name the emptiness

for just a moment

the woman at the next table

has an ass

that goes from

two inches below her bra strap


an inch above her knees


children will freeze

to death this winter

while donald trump has

a thousand empty rooms

in a dozen empty houses


im chasing scotch

with red wine


the bartenders 12 year old


is hoping to find puberty

under the tree

this christmas


the ganges is filled

with the starved to death

while big macs walk the streets

with champagne and more

blow jobs than i ever had



the taste of the blood

in my mouth

this afternoon

and i order

another shot

while the rats are in the alley

enjoying our garbage


which is more than i can say

for me

the dogs bark

at another passing


below my darkened window

as i sit

cigarette and red wine


the long red hair

stuck to the sole

of my right sock

wave as i breathe


it cant be that

long since ive vacuumed


the not quite full


hanging there

summer turning to fall


soon even the leaves

will be gone

there was a hawk


over the field

to my left

as i drove to work

this afternoon


catching updraft

after updraft

in a desperate ballet

of prey


my woman

told me today

that she cant look at me

for too long

because she will SWOON


and the desire

to be with me





she slept with her boss

two nites ago

to make herself feel better


footsteps keep walking

passed my door


and walking

in to buy another bottle

tonite after work

a homeless man

with shopping cart and beard

overflowing with whats left

of his life

compliments me

on my work tie


yellow and orange suns

wearing sunglasses

on a brite red background


i told him

it was designed

by a 7 year old girl

named stephanie

who had a terminal disease

and is probably dead now


he cackled and clapped

and said




i kept on

to the store


he was rite


not about what


throat slit

razor still in his hand

slept finally

without a dream


noone noticed the smell

noone went to his grave

the whores still worked

the streets

the pastries still tasted

as delicious

clerks and artists

and students

all hoped

for his room


she never even knew

his name

woman in a blue dress

on a thursday night alone in a room


having a woman

you hate

in bed

next to you

is better

than an empty pillow


you drink


for both

their absence

and their presence


but sometimes

the nite

and your room

echo a little less

when there

is another body in the room


when she lays

on you

she may be

your shield

against the world


the last weight

that crushes



but she is there

and you are there

and that is better

than being



maybe its the fruit flys

and the way they circle

and perch on my

drinking glass

like buzzards

on a cliff


or maybe

its the moths

and the way

they fly into the light

and fall dead


or maybe

its the sound of a baby continuing

to wail for its mamma

in the abandoned

house next door

where the homeless squat

among the needles and empties


or maybe

its just sunday nite

looking at the polaroids

and rolling over

on our bed

listening to the upstairs neighbor

yelping through a fuck


but i think

maybe hitler had it rite


he built his bunker

to hide away

with his virgin wife

and offing themselves

when the world at war

got too close