Embers

Rain coat and golashes on.
Clock ticks but the hands don’t move.
Waiting for the bomb to drop, I
stoke the fire, recall a tune:

The chorus wrapped its coils around
my head, a snake with tail untold,
swallowing my memories
and knowledge that I’d had before.

Clockwise,
counterclockwise.
Small movements
invisible eye.
Winds sparks embers.

Just below the scatt’rin’ clouds
vultures circle, buzzing bills.
Meanwhile, I’m down on the ground
spinning yet remaining still.

‘Twas at that time the rhyme arrived.
Swooping down and opened wide,
it took me in its beak and then
it all went dark, now here I am, I’m….

Clockwise,
counterclockwise.
Unpenned verses,
invisible eye.
Winds sparks embers.

When am I?

The coast’ll clear.
Just a matter o’ when
the water meets the land.

(3/24 & 3/27/2020 – Gregory Street, Madison, Wisconsin)

Jamais Vu

This here’s some dense fog,
Thick as the earth’s hide.
Have you ever seen
such an unsight?

At present,
there’s only
yesterday,
today,
tomorrow.
At present,
jamais vu.

If you’re hearing this now,
that means you’re alive.
Reason to rejoice:
One more sunrise.

At present,
there’s only
yesterday,
today,
tomorrow.
At present,
jamais vu.

Anyone got the time?
Anybody see the sign?

At present,
jamais vu.

(4/2/2020 – Gregory Street, Madison, Wisconsin)

An Expanse

Some mornings I pray for rain.
Other mornings I wish for sun.
Most mornings I don’t know what I want.

Some days I see a car up on the county road.
Other days not a soul.
Most days it’s us up here alone.

Some nights there’s a light in the window.
Some evenings there’s no one home.
Sometimes ’round midnight I hear a voice.

Utterly in the grey –
an expanse
with no glance
of an ending.

Never stranger.

(3/17/2020 – Gregory Street, Madison, Wisconsin)

In Other Words

Dashed to the corner,
shuffled with the crowd
as the stitches came undone.

Down came the edict:
Everyone get inside,
stay quiet, discontinue contact.

In other words,
hunker down
so long.

Dawns days of dialing into
distant frequencies.
Bob your head to the beat.

In other words,
let the air out
of the balloon
slowly, child.

Ducking out in the dark.
Waving to the shadows.
Signs of spring,
a sea of closed doors.

In other words,
for now.

In other words,
how’s it all gonna turn out?

In other words,
another world.

(3/14 & 3/15/2020 – Gregory Street, Madison, Wisconsin)

Edge Fading (For Now)

Stone caster.
Knife twister.
Round tripper.
Remember me?

Dice roller.
Bridge burner.
Nail driver.
How do you do?

Hold the mustard,
mother fucker.
While you’re at it,
write a prescription
for a fractured heart.

Allez, en garde.
No holds barred.
Disregard
all the good times.

What is worse?
Sniper’s perch,
firing squad, or
inside job?

Hold the mustard,
mother fucker.
While you’re at it,
write a prescription
for a fractured heart.

Then again,
drugs won’t help none.
Then again, again,
maybe they’d help some.
I’ll have just a little.
I’ll have just a little.

Edge fading
like a sunset
for now.

Edge fading
like a sunset
for now.

(2/9 & 2/13/20, Gregory Street & Village Bar, Madison, Wisconsin)