...missing ends and pieces...

have you found the end

of your year yet I know its

around here somewhere

but it has gone missing

like the keys and wallet

events and occupations

photos and poems

all the days we have left

behind and all the narrow

paths that begin to widen

in the fresh start of a decade

the truly trivial beginning

of a numerical refresh button

we feel safe starting at one

like a newly created piece

...scars and gloss on Sue...

rain eats it

away from paint

and salt strips her

last bits of gloss

auburn burnt rust

metal bent and popped

into place, scars

of street sweepers

stains of plow

iodine in detritus

cracks in streets, wheels

rains eat it

away so she can

shine again tomorrow

--for Sue B.

...snow first...

if this white blanket

folds and it will

with the help of salt

and stone then

this renewal seems

false and this all

seems so not pure

and the blanket

becomes binding

around the feet

...cold air and dinner...

december is the cruelest brunch

and the "samich" stand freezes

to it own leaks and metals

so we'll go to the lunch place

with the soup and we'll go to

remember the dinner before

we have even tasted an appetizer

or a kiss or the first spoon

of our new year

and the anniversary

of my minor entree

into this air, vapor

cloud white

in this atmosphere

...white cheddar...

bye bye white cheddar

and dead mouse dying

at the hand of a butcher

who couldn't figure out

the simplest cut; he dragged

and tore at the meat;

breaking it down hard

as the drive that kept it living.

With the trails

of meat left behind

and the snows that are coming

the leopard will be along

to quickly clean

up the fragments

and bits of memory

...festival late...

in passages not taken

by these shoes

all of you will be welcomed

in by the mystery

of a cover and the promise

of a celebration

in the desert.

Be cautious: it's cold out at night.

...visitations...

no matter

how many times

I get to see you

folks I want to see

you folks even more

and more

...termination cycle...

hitting the door

faster than they could

hit the cold concrete

faster than the girl

could scream

faster than the traffic

that continued by

faster than it took

for the ambulance

to come faster than

blood that was running

faster than the thought

where I place ourselves

on their cycle faster

than the thought

that we are safe for now

...filling in what fits...

embodied in the red _____

cautious as the pink soft ____

she looks at ____

finds the mistake on the ____

and turns to _____

song called _____

says, "You still got ____!"

he leans over and gives her a ____

...home city...

rev the motor

city rival can't

beat the down

or back but

drip the night

into rainy religion

spin the disc

around me when

the pick up becomes

the finale

and we get home

...dr. dj...

you're turning the tables.

i'm siding the winder.

your plan is engaged.

i'm engaged to plans.

your simple torque.

my frenetic step.

your pretty little ditty.

my sad little pretending.

you're finding a song.

i'm singing your find.

i'm singing your song.

you're spinning it again.

...faces...

the fearful images

in my mind are created

by my mind

and by the exploitations

of the faces

seen in the past

(this is where

these fears stem from

I apologize

for their dictations)

...familial misnamings...

cousin is far too detached

sounding and I think

that had I called to you

as a brother, or

an uncle, maybe we

could've had you for longer

or just another day

for me to tell you this.

...sad song berry...

the sad part

is that we sit

and wait for a blip

on the radar

flicker of hope

red LED on

vibrate mode

the sadder part

is the chorus

but it needs

to be drafted

some more

...cousins...

never said goodbye to your son

and now you

with all the distances

that living

each of our lives

creates we seldom

see how far one ocean

is from the other

because it is a real space

unlike the kinds

I have created in time

and place

(forgive me for not

being graceful here

but I miss the hell

out of you guys)

In Memory of Bruce Schroeder

...listening to Embryonic...

one must start thinking where

you are and where one

is right now

the time that you believed

this to be true and real

not a figure in the sky

or a hand on a face

but a sense in the mind

or the ache in the knee

things that show passings

rings in the tree

grooves of the valley

the distrust in man's

inventions and facades

or how you've embrace them

here we are now

into the origins of this

playless drama

the queen's death

the outpooring of love

the birth of a new one

through time

see the sun

its trying again

but we are not here

to follow this tail

or toil in it's shine

we must raise it up

and prevent us from

dying again

...cultivated...

his discovery:

the planks are loose

out by the old shed.

when he tore it away,

a garden was left.

This he keeps up

and finds paths

to whichever sense

he wants to explore.

...back to life...

bring me

back to life

once again

into warm airs

and coiled sheets

sweet with sweat

and spilled glasses

of cool water

when this life wants

to end

once again

...missing points...

conscious of the fact

that words can damage

with equal force

fist or foot

I did not mean

to kick or scream

only to tell you

that you are beautiful

beyond your skin

and that this

is a fact

...domino...

2:30 am mind wandering

to claustrophobic tenant's sounds;

chains in the ally way?

long drawn out attempts

at low rent burglary?

bound slaves in shackles?

Stupid, stupid mind at 2:30 am

they say "Domino, mutha fucka!

Domino..."