Thursday, July 11, 2024

Spices of Mare Nostrum 

 Cinnamon will save my soul
all ground to powder in my distilled drink
take me back to the Milvian Bridge
I'd like a conversion

girls grabbing at my heart
and my attention 
you can't have it
four wheels moves the body, two wheels moves the


my prayers are all poems 
and my poems are a prayer
we don't need to go south of the Sahara
civilization stops here

rulers of the Mediterranean with
brown eyes and brown hair
temple columns are trite but soft hills and olive 
trees are a dream of your body

and my arms are Herculean and your
scent soft and sweet
cinnamon and religion 
cardamom and mystery
a breeze, a buttcheek and white silk upon thee

Tuesday, July 2, 2024

 Words to the Wind

I keep my coffee close and my hardhat clean
water for my son
coffee for me
I still think about Violet
the color of royalty 
power my pursuit 
and so was she

and baby you don't have to lie to me
wireman welders don't have feelings 

but the feelings I had for the purple are overwhelming 
the color of sunrise
over Midwestern skies
all ghosts and words to the wind
number my days and leave me to my sins
I bought her flowers then gave them to the Virgin

I would have forgotten you, Violet 
if it weren't for that wind
and I'm moving on
with no heart in the game
I've been heartless - myself to blame
a product of Achilles rage
an Odyssey of more of the same
night and day
work and play
these words and wind are all grey

I'm a man of the finest burial shroud
but I have nothing to say
just wind

on the Indiana plains.