CNC #17

Prayers of the Husband

Dear Lord, I've scored!

With the wishes you've granted it's the girl I adored

and adore, what a whore! She'll do anything to keep me afloat.

My once-shipwrecked boat now soars through her throat.

Clean like a whistle thats blown on the daily

and kept above two shaved rugs that once-snugged my Israelis.

Well, okay she's so great! Soft spoken and broken

like a wild horse thats now tamed, and believe me, she has no mane.

I've seen it all, against a wall, anytime I call, she'll ball, and she bawls

like a girl! Like a bitch, and when she gives me lip I give it right back

not with words but a smack to her back, or her front just to stun her little stunts.

She thinks the world of me now so I pray to you somehow to keep her safe from others

who might wish her harm! No this girl won't be threatened when under my arm.

The seeds I planted then I now farm and with charm and a smile like a tiger

with eyes like lighters and teeth that may fight her, but never bite her.

If I scratch, if she bleeds, my intentions we clean! Don't think I sound whiny

I'm just tired of climbing through hoops to feel good again so I'm praying to

give wood again and flood the forest that isn't there and put back just some pulled out hair.

Isn't that fair? She's my girl, she's my world and I deserve all I get.

So give me the best, or she'll live to regret it.

CNR #16

Fate

What I look for in this world that is full of implications

is a biconditional statement that we love.

Beyond the time of hearts tugged with the wind

and pass the points of lips meeting at whim.

When your mind comes home make sure it's not late.

Every second before is a stood up date.

I look through you like glass, and try to slip away

Maybe you never existed, and I'm not made of such clay

While I stand on the edge of the world and look over space,

and you play in the rest, forests, deserts, lakes.

I won't turn around to see what is deemed fake.

I don't have the strength to pull stakes from my place.

I love you forever, even when I will hate.

The ends coming undone, I'll lay down and wait.

CNR #15

Shot

I often drift to the big band thoughts

brass and shots and smiles caught between red cheeks

and fleets of people on their knees just to please

and to grease the wheels of pleasure whether weather permits

whether shame enters the mix, it is no matter.

Once splattered; mind shattered, once the dam is broken

and reality floods, I've been shammed from hammed

when the glory starts to part and departing myself

in a way that seems unfair, and I've never faired better daze

no matter the institution if the seeds are in ground

then my head floats around and my eyes are least dense

so they float to the sky. My mind goes dull for lost breath

due the proper winds on proper days and fabrics ablaze

or so I wish, I kiss the lips of the flames and can breathe once again

A cock among hens, and should they play contend or shiver

I'd sliver these notions and fester those potions until readier

heavier concoctions bared resemblance to the entrance of something wondrous.

I would if I could, or maybe that's a lie.

Regardless of truth, these day dream pursuits

are fruitful and splendid though they render me helpless

and speechless for each kiss, each thought drowns life in the pot.

But the steam is what I sought but it's not what it ought.

I look in your eyes and I'm shot.

CNR #14

Like Fluid

I will sleep soon.

In this white room with long lights and cold floors

I will fix the sheets and rest my head.

Visual starvation from today's pages

manifest in ways no sage could predict

though the predictions are meaningless if a change's spark is schemeless.

When the earth turns just so, the ground still leaks heat

so we don't freeze in our sheets;

so we can continuously bleed from one organ to another.

Blood flowing and dancing like a father's bride daughter.

It just keeps going and going, until one day it won't.

When her smile fades near a grave and a hole.

Which hole will it un-whole? All the more reason to celebrate

these seasons when shirts are just optional

and friends laugh like cellophane or kernals over flames.

Not colonels in flames, when life isn't just a game.

I can't think of a time when from a laugh I refrained.

and I'll stare down this drain and wonder where it goes.

Follow pipes in my mind to an underground mine

with flowers that grow from the slime, where it's never my time.

I'm not even a star, I just stand on a rock and it rotates around

because gravity is stuck and they say we're all fucked

and we did it ourselves, well the old always say that

when it's their turn for the shelf.

I'll never be up there, a sobering thought.

I open my eyes and look at the clock.

I close them again, wipe an itch from my chin,

rustle the blankets and forget, forget, forgot.