Friday, June 25, 2010


Van Gogh sky,
jagged white
stabbed with black
and grey.

Songbirds nervous as deer
before an earthquake.

Air, muggy and hot, pauses
grave still,
waiting for the balance to tip.

Thursday, June 24, 2010


Back in the day
some Neanderthal was the first
to add spikes to his wheel;
studded leather wristlets
followed shortly.

In my youth, only motor heads had muscle;
now, “CEOs drive Harleys and
wholesome mothers have tattoos.”

On my twelve mile daily commute,
a surfeit of over-horsed idiots
bob and weave in a winnerless race,
striving to wrench
that last free car length
from all the others.

Thursday, June 17, 2010


It’s 101 in the shade of
the steakhouse veranda;
nobody’s goin’ out there
to dig into a sizzling rib eye.

He sits alone,
just a beater six string for company,
belting out Tejas-tinged blues.

Top down in the parking lot,
I stop for a tune or two.
He pays me no mind,
eyes closed, playing for those
who first shaped the music.

I start to roll and he looks over;
I give a thumbs up and
he smiles, jerks his chin,
starts into another tune.

Texas Rescue Dog

He weighs nine pounds,
stands ten inches tall
at the shoulder.

Tied to his star-studded collar
a tiny barrel holds
one good shot an’ a half
of Anejo tequila
an’ a Dixie cup.

When some poor sap gets
whupped upside the head
by a tornader, he will crawl
from the wreckage of his doublewide,
and as his eyes clear,
he’ll spot Bandito,
standing tall on a rubble heap
ready to quench his thirst and
make everything OK agin.

Sunday, June 13, 2010


Coffee cups that read
“Caution, contents are hot”

Boxes printed with,
“Do not turn box upside down,”
on the bottom.

Hand guns that note,
“Read manual before use.”

Fish hooks warn,
“Harmful if swallowed.”

Male enhancement pills marked,
“Do not use while pregnant or nursing.”

A hair dryer reads,
“Never use while sleeping,”
and a curler,
“Do not use in shower or bath.”

If this kind of mindless shit
really is necessary,
shouldn’t we just allow natural selection
to do its thing?

Saturday, June 05, 2010

Time Lapse

My eye caught the clock
just as the numbers changed.
I thought, what if
they just kept flipping?

Would it be the end of days,
a flashback,
or just a busted Sony?

If I roll back over,
surrender to sleep,
will I wake up older than time
with all I love
turned to dust?

It’s probably nothing that
coffee and a morning paper won’t cure;
in that instant between sleep and waking
it can give you pause.