The New World Again.

Why do you all look like I look but yet I am alone?
In Paris’s third I walk wordlessly through
a threshold downfall of foreign
comfort form and content
as I reach the Rue de Turenne.
Clothes of polyester line…


Bull's Eye

Not many tears fell over Wall Street tonight.

Where occupiers pitched softballs of flower with no power

In brick buildings

coveted, covered and revealed a glow of painted murals

from partners past.

Where poets never sang or signed deals.



Riding a September Neutrino

In a subway I slept for 10 stops too many
on an F train waking at Ditmas to cramped, pungent,
pinched panic, as transfer from dreams of fights, fanatics and funerals, now
knocked unturned neurons on with activation energy of…


In My Moleskine



Maps made of ink
in eras where cars
were driven crazy
and counting the
numbers of girls
from beer bar meets
and greets me
soberly, silent in the
distant past of dreams.

Cultivating my garden
of tech and toys.

Defying Acceleration


Really I don’t see why time would fly
while having fun and as you age.

But nights are too short.

Maybe Valium.
Maybe a ticking time bomb someplace
like my chest.
Still genesis and de-genesis of neurons.
Ions sparking in…

Friday in SoHo

When did time become longer on the train and shorter to drink a Jamba Juice

in the city of rotating trash pickup, parking spaces, and bridge financing.

When I looked over my shoulder, I saw what colors my periphery was…


Spring Training


A softball pitched slowly
melts under my tongue like melatonin
and I wait for the pitcher’s wink
from the compost mound of my memory.




Before the Shining Sea


Deep pockets of mischief
on my mind.
Crumbling boulders on chocolate mountains, that I will never climb.
The  muse of morning disappears with the maple syrup
and the diminished droplets on plains where planes
make maps of checker board greens…

Hail Mary


A strip of irrigated lumps on sand stay
harpooned to the desolate grounds of the winters
i miss.

I once cried that the improbable soliloquy could
be stoically spoken
but only after the lonely boy leapt from the bell tower.…


On a distant planet where the Rockies crumble onto the plains They talk of Orion and grizzlies taken by dead presidents And pardonable lies, which are scooped up in the big dipper Where a virgin cries in English, holding a…


Why December Flies

It doesn’t matter that the lights are out on the sky path, where dark nights hide tears for a million kisses together fighting patience in restaurants where your hand and my thigh polarize into the event horizon of a fantasia…