She loved like a child wanting
to sweep the floor or
Honk Beep turn Vroom
across the world.

She loved as a boy
wanting to go to war.

But, I suppose,
that was the difference.
Her love was war. The streets seemed to picket
her only cause though there were no crowd control.
Her love was, just in that way:
far before our brothers saw blood
flood a vivid color along the dark
as mud took in spilling love.
So, suppose, she were a boy
begging, dad, please,
let me go to war.

Whoever told you
love at first sight didn’t exist?

You choose who you love
and,
at great risk.

To be a drunkard drink.
and slowly, very slowly, sink.
Be self destructive: over think.
Dig a hole and let the light
dimly shine: not to be,
with more than knives,
less to-
stave with razorblades.
No, not to scratch or
even itch.
But you dig.

She loved a story that didn’t end happy
He happened to be working one or two.
Oh, that’s how stories always go.
She happened to enjoy raunchy scenes.
Isn’t that all they’d asked for?
It’s a fiction brew, played by two.
Mixed with this, a false little that,
The story gets better (or worse)
The fiction brew, takes the two,
and mixes in a little truth.

Call it something,h
to be more specific.
He could draw, or live one.
Yesterday a picture,
today’s a song.
What comes next,
it’s beauty
Look! Listen…
feel how it’s
empty.

Loving and living hardly feel same
Not that I’d be the one to complain.

Oh, look what’s left
Not me Not she
The smell of flesh
in, deep, slow
the way to breath a cigarette.

a light, a flash
the wonderful flicker
the thought, the love,
a wonder
Not me (not she)
But still in deep (slow)
The way to watch fireworks (explode)

The truth from the deep showed up
Wearing flowing red, Fading green, gray
And a final, solid, heavy black.
It smells of sweet adultery
The kind that cheats you, leaves you
Embodied by, but the shame of simply them.

Sorrow sweet, new life, lonely placid
And a final, stern, nothing feeling.

It’s okay to use words like sometimes
Or refer to the reader as you
Be vague
over use a few words
Write out really
Before every word
Up mix the sentence.

Just say “BACON”
Mention those sizzling curves baby
We’ll succumb to this lust
an all consuming fire
Say Pancakes
Waffles (man, that’s a like)
Orange juice and Coffee
Muffins, Biscuits and Gravy

Say “second breakfast”
and thirds! I’d forgive
all the lame acronyms

Breakfast defies grammar
Voice, and sentence structure
iambic pentameter, adverbs
adnouns, nonsense words
and words.

It’s a taste (a power)
A killer (and life saver)
It’s living times ten
math plus one hundred
Breakfast in bed,
I’d trade for “dead”
Sausage, hash browns
Eggs! Omelets.

There’s just a way
of saying Breakfast
Only one way.
“Extra everything”

The doctors say “Unhealthy”
Otherwise, It’s merely sport or business.
Business risks depression
Sport, a loss.
Love like art
Beauty in ruin.
Know it by our failures
How we always crumble.

It’s love with a straight jacket.
bacon to a stroke.
Love: a cheesy metaphor.
Cheddar.
It’s for the paraplegic.
Love is for the dark corners
no one wants to see.

Don’t resent shapes
lacking the definition
of a perfect circle.
What we talk about
When we talk about geometry.
What they’re wrong on
when we say they say
two plus two equal five.

It’s just the same
when two look straight
touch without words
unoriginal and beautiful.

My song won’t worry
to ask them to read
between the lines.
What they’re looking for
Is the same in every way.

“I thinking we’re falling in love”

Winter must be on its way.

“Things are about to get cold.”

“What?” she said

“Oh, nothing” I replied

She came back
for her clothes
and she was beautiful
but this time only to show
exactly what to miss when she left.