the detail

the detail is the darnedest thing
it controls the arc of a playground swing
and sets the mood when a candle's lit
before a diner has a chance to sit
it holds the butter in a vinegar base
while the wine's reduced just before a taste
it sets the color and adjusts the noise
puts into motion all the girls and boys
who march around to their drummers beat
and dance and laugh in a midnight street
it signals when to beat the heart
and fans the flame for old Mozart.
it cautions when the wheel gets spun
against the frenzy of too much fun
it laps the water upon the shore
to erode the castle that stands no more.
a picnic lunch by a country road
made by the lover who cared and showed
that detail is the darnedest thing
as she caressed your face and began to sing

edge of doom

it's always incomplete
even when we meet
there's words we cannot speak.

i feel i'm just undone
as cowboy on the run
who dressed without his gun.

so here's my helping hand
as writer in the sand
and member of the band:

remember love's not lost
there's just an awful cost

and remodel every room
even to the edge of doom

and when you ride the horse
keep it focused on a course.

your shoulder

i touched your shoulder with my tongue
in a dream i tasted you as an ice cream
cone the flavor of which was heavenly
and i fell to the floor for that last drop
which wouldn't stop
at my lip.
i'm not ashamed to say
i didn't come to play
as an expert at this game,
so for a long time i wondered where
you were and what.
the space you occupy is why
i feel good and your finger on my arm
tracing the line lightly and fine
is divine.

You are the bright spot

The world is crazier than I thought
But you’re the bright spot
Not all random and blown apart
Much more true at heart
Not Bloomingdales
Or cat-o-nine tails

You’re not the orange with twenty seeds
Not a bag of beads
You’re not the house without a roof
Not a doorknob, not a goof
You’re much narrower, not so wide
Much more open with less to hide

The world is crazier than I thought
But you’re the bright spot
Not all plural without a sign
I think of you as a friend of mine
When things get various and I lose control
You always play the calming role

You’re not the wall without a floor
Not a guided tour
You’re not the car without a horn
Not a spare tire feeling worn
You’re much more focused, more at ease
Much more certain who to please

The world is crazier than I thought
But you’re the bright spot
Not all random and blown apart
Much more true at heart
Not Bloomingdales
Or cat-o-nine tails