Others

Those I like

And those 

I don’t 

Not much sense                                               

To it usually

A hat tilted perhaps

Upward a bit

Too much 

An awkward gait

There was once

A tall gangly

Guy ubiquitous

In Milwaukee

I’d see him

Going in and out

Of pharmacies

And bookstores

Sometimes toting

A guitar

Or a handful

Of his mimeographed

Poems about sunlight

Hitting the river

I didn’t like

“the cut of his jib”

I was forced 

To speak to him

Once

And I noticed

I liked him

Years passed fast

Like tides overtaking

A holiday shore

He saved my life

One winter

When I was dying

More Reflections on Work

American Ghosts

They breathe the violet

Onto the flowers

Ride the tops

Of freight trains

Crossing the west

Yelling faintly

In the tunnels

American ghosts

The loneliness

Of choked creeks

And fallen hotels

They run endlessly

The green hedge mazes

Of steel titans

American ghosts

Look at us

Through the eyes

Of Washington Lincoln

Hamilton Jackson

Whisper old hymns

The names of racehorses

American ghosts

Ride the backs of bullets

They think this might

Deliver them

It does not

They must watch

New American ghosts

As they are made

 

COUNTDOWN

We stayed up late enough

To smell the bread on the wind

From the factory bakery

The president is hawking beans

From the White House

His smile looks like a star exploding

Men are walking into all night gas stations

And breathing onto candy bars

They’ll kill you if you say a word

Vauhxx Booker was chased into the Indiana Woods

By men of my “race” and they had

Tail pipe fire sparking in their eyes

Their voices were lava dust and diesel

Big bellies bouncing, threatening arms swinging

I didn’t think the fall would look like this

The same way the nation rose up

By threatening by killing

By lunging then leaping into death

Because dying is easier than living

And killing seems easier than loving

summer 2020

8 silent

      minutes  

44 silent

       seconds

to remember

       George Floyd

people seated on the street

downtown Chicago

     birds

             a breeze

                    a distant chopper

no words

8 silent

      minutes  

44 silent

       seconds

music and crushes

my whole life has been

music and crushes

hard to tell

which starts where

the elliott smith

line of notewords

that sparks like

a firefly

looping around

a pond

and someone

seen for sunlight

seconds walking

through a door

can’t break

them apart:

firefly/song/crush 

surging the same

in ‘78 or 2020

only the songs

are different

The National Prayer Breakfast, 2020

A boa constrictor zig zigs into the banquet hall, elevates its head and knocks over a pot of coffee.

The lights go out. A swarm of bats rush through a hole in a window and circle the giant chandelier. Their wings make a slapping sound and their whirring speed stokes a wind that elevates the combover of the president.