Brings to Mind.

Age-of-coming girl on
Simple rope ‘n’ plank trapeze.
Metronome beat, measuring
Time, lust and performance;
Moving over stones:
Stones that stand for ages,
Stones that skip,
Stones that try to hide –
And the ripples they make
In still, deep waters.
It’s not always what you see,
Sometimes it’s what it
Brings to mind.


She Thinks She has …

In the hightower spotlight,
Snow and rock falling past
Once blonde hair onto
Slim, bare shouldres.
She has her own garbage can booked
In a special, reserved corner of hell;
But that must wait.

It’s not about history,
However impressive, it’s
About now, the show,
Adrenaline and the
Ten thousand points of light …
The ones many people never see.

When the fork-tailed
‘phistpheles angel comes,
No doubt, she’ll struggle, cry,
Plead, argue, go
For his damned eyes,
With broken nails and all
The spite she thinks she has.

But, she made a deal,
Is fine with that,
And between now and then
She’ll pay for powder,
Devour the music,
Give the naked fool everything,
Everything he thinks he needs.


Kite Talker

There’s always going to be

Change,drama, weather

Between the black rock

And the jungle beach;

But nobody smiles

Like the Kite Talker does –

Every ballet finger, string

And red sail performance

Relaxed and engaging.

Names can’t always be changed.

Accept the ultimate, cruel

Justice truth:

The innocent cannot expect

Eternal protection.