the air was cold

it was the weekend
the sky was clear
the air was cold
i read the news but the stories grew old
although one was wild
it really shocked
it seemed pure hate
about Muslims' no right to immigrate
to America
where the Statue
of Liberty
asks the tired and those wanting to be free
to start a new life
like those before
the Pilgrims and Puritans to this shore
and many others:
the good and bad,
the ugly, too;
i'd like to kick ass with my size 8 shoe.

sanctuary church

The black robed Tsar
in his sleek armored car
on the streets of Philadelphia
media day for the boys
even his favorite pollster made her entrance in military garb
but not before the local DJ's blew large speakers full of bass;
the neighborhood craft breweries heard her sipping her beer;
the American press from both afar and near
watched her lick her lips and lick the head, yum.
she left alternative facts scattered on the main stage
near custom-tailored suits and flags,
plastic trash cans and scattered black rags,
climate-controlled or climate-changed,
even the Comcast Tower
and the Trump Tower
promised more than they would ever deliver.
the newly remodeled Hilton Hotel near the Reading Terminal
buzzed with unruly management and protesters
who all held signs which said RESIST
until their arms grew tired and in a weird twist
began to speak fluent Spanish
when it was announced that
the current Mexican President had just promised bravely to be absent
from any meeting between unequals however neighborly!
the Tyrannosaurus Rex went scowling to his gilded room
with bleeding gums;
he ate large handfuls of Made-in-America Tums.
the most important Border Guard resigned from his post;
the barking dogs of war
ran around with their authoritarian collars pulled too tight;
they began to foam at the mouth
when they looked south.
everyone went home at night,
slipping underneath the middle-class floor.
many were found after an exhaustive search,
having taken refuge in an sanctuary church.

here comes the Donald

duck
here comes the Donald
he's on a hover board flying at high noon
the new sheriff badge pinned to his inflated chest
duck
he came way too soon
The Doomsday Clock was nervously twitching by the door
Princess Grace tossed a loaded gun
duck
she ran for the shore
with two deputies and a member of Delta Force
they loaded the ship of state for the Battle of Midway Island
duck
it's heading off course
where the water is ocean blue and the Pacific sun bright
towards the South China Sea and the coral airfields
duck
it's almost midnight
the Parties of God are partying in downtown Tel Aviv
millions of migrants are rushing the crude border wall
duck
there's no chance to leave
there are slippery piss puddles on the barracks' floor
and the Donald is puzzled by the size of his penis
duck
it's time for a war.

don't be a fool

hey by the way
i really don't give a shit
does it suck
or is it a universal hit
'cause i've walked the streets of Saigon
with a new M16
but i wasn't told
i was expected to be ugly and mean
yes, a real American son of a bitch
among the proud Asian slant-eye
and if i lived who would care
or simply die
as a part of the world goes on spinning
more insipid nonsense
with a stupid President wearing a long red tie
his rich nose stuck up his poor white ass
and he doesn't know why
the Earth is getting so fucking hot
while his buddies sucking oil and sucking gas
keep pissing tall tales on the native prairie grass
and don't even begin to ask
hey by the way
i really don't give a shit
0 for four
or every at bat equals a hit
whatever game tickles your sensibility:
play the New York stock exchange like a miner's tool
or tread on the hallowed halls of academia
but don't be a fool
or a hopeless hillbilly
hey by the way
tomorrow is another day
seems like we could dig in the garden dirt
and it wouldn't really hurt

we played around

there was a blush on your soft cheek
it came on our day down by the creek
you were on the wet grass
our boat was moored
we played around
neither of us got bored
i watched you smile at my dumb joke
you laughed and gave me a gentle poke
i asked you for a dance
we played around
it wasn't just romance
there was a song we both could sing
i couldn't remember everything
but i tried each word
we played around
you were all that i heard
there was a blush on your soft cheek
it came on our day down by the creek
you were on the wet grass
our boat was moored
we played around
neither of us got bored.

be with you and talk

it was so cold on the
steep mountainside
i couldn't keep warm
when i remembered how often i lied
how when the going got tough
and you told me i wasn't loving you enough
i packed my bags and began a lonely walk
when all i had to do was be with you
and talk
something deep down inside
made me want to get up and hide
and now i look around and can't find you anywhere
i was just going to tell you that i really care
these tears on my face and my broken heart
is it possible we could have a new start?
can't there be
a single possibility?
can't there be
a fleeting chance
that our love was more than happenstance?
it was so cold
when i realized i didn't have you to hold
when the day turned to night
and i watched you turn out the light
that there would be no more tomorrow
my broken heart is heavy with sorrow
it was so cold on the
steep mountainside
i couldn't keep warm
when i remembered how often i lied
how when the going got tough
and you told me i wasn't loving you enough
i packed my bags and began a lonely walk
when all i had to do was be with you
and talk.

midnight i heard you say goodbye

midnight i heard you say goodbye
the black cats began to holler and cry
and i watched you fading away
but what exactly could i hope to say?
you made up your mind a couple of hours ago
i watched you writing the famous words "Look out below!"
baby, your pen is mightier than a sword
i never once heard you say you were bored
baby, hey, who the hell will take my place?
what Mr. Dick Detective will take over this case?
you know we could have been more European
we might have been more explicit about what we were seeing
and i might have been a better poet
if there were problems i'd immediately know it
baby, your pen is mightier than a sword
i never once heard you say you were bored
baby, hey, who the hell will take over my place?
what Mr. Dick Detective will take over this case?
you know we could have been more incredible
we might have shared experiences which were more than edible
and i might have been a better lover
if i had more courage to remove my cover
midnight i heard you say goodbye
the black cats began to holler and cry
and i watched you fading away
but what exactly could i hope to say?
you made up your mind a couple of hours ago
i watched you writing the famous words "Look out below!"
baby, your pen is mightier than a sword
i never once heard you say you were bored
baby, hey, who the hell will take my place?
what Mr. Dick Detective will take over this case?

Pablo

Olga was the dancer

with a sore foot;

the painter wanted her Russian smile

but that wasn't the only thing he took.

there was a male child

which they shared

and a blond mistress

for which he cared

when his penis was in her mouth;

he acted as the Spanish bull

and gave her penetration

when he'd push and pull

on the summer shores of the Med

or coastal France.

Olga watched the flowers grow

but could no longer dance.

there were many friends and drinks

and fancy costumed balls;

they dressed up as a couple many times

but he kept building walls

between them

with shades of blue and red and black

on stretched canvas where his prized reputation

mostly hung intact.

meditation rock

a snow

and a snow woman

two dogs chased two deer and crossed a small creek

in hot pursuit of an instinct

on a cold January afternoon

before the football game and craft beer

a depression settled in the neighborhood

a sharp rifle crack came from the nearby firing range

a chain saw bit into frozen wood fibers

as dreams of warmth flew into the logger's head 

the gazebo was covered in fog

but a screen door was swung open to reveal the small inner bench

foot prints meandered over a forest lane

their sound muffled as hours passed and a bird hopped

the air cold as the arctic ice

one rabbit

a distant owl made an owl hoot

a camouflaged hunter's tent without the hunter

remained erect without prescription pills or prayer

i sat on the meditation rock with my hat for a cushion
Spring was not too far in the distance.

drinking my beer

now i mention you
because you're not here
i'm sitting in my brown chair drinking my beer
i can imagine you're getting dressed
or blowing smoke up your nose
there once was a time when i guessed
but now it doesn't bother me
regardless of how it goes
and you're probably combing your expensive hair
but i'm not there
to hand you a favorite shirt
i can't play your monopoly game
after i've been hurt
and now i see you pouring a glass of fine wine
with gentle music in the room soothing your soul
but i have a heart and now there's a deep hole
and you're walking away with the todays' New York Times
and i see your soft back
from the other side of the railroad track
with a steaming locomotive pulling you up to a tall mountain
but i've cleaned the dirty water and turned on the fountain
and all the fish are hungry
some are gold with big teeth and some are yellow and blue
now i mention you
because you're not here
i'm sitting in my brown chair drinking my beer
i can imagine you're getting dressed
or blowing smoke up your nose
there once was a time when i guessed
but now it doesn't bother me
regardless of how it goes.

heading for outer space

yes baby
i'm clapping my hands
i see you're walking on the sands
of time
star dust on your face
heading for outer space
heading for me
yes baby
i'm walking your way
i see i'm doing it day after day
star dust on my face
heading for outer space
heading for you
it's what we were meant to do.

Elvis Presley of Tupelo breed

quality assured
100% guaranteed
Elvis Presley of Tupelo breed
rocking and rolling on the biggest stage
Heartbreak Hotel the latest rage
black hat in hand and white on his head
gyrating hips don't miss what was said:
the cowboys are riding a pedigree horse
rodeo girls dancing far off the course
a whirlwind romp in pastures of hope
sweet treats were tied with Mississippi rope
the new sounds bounced off a canyon wall
like hard rock candy and i caught them all;
on the fake leather seat of daddy's car
the young ladies won't tell you who they are;
when the curfew comes they've been there too,
waiting to wear the big blue suede shoe.
hey, hey, it's the fourth of July
was it a piece of American pie?
quality assured
100% guaranteed
Elvis Presley of Tupelo breed
rocking and rolling on the biggest stage
Heartbreak Hotel the latest rage
black hat in hand and white on his head
gyrating hips don't miss what was said.

reaching the Red Sea

in Kashmir

a thoughtful Indian held a rock

while i slept on my sofa

playing with a Pakistani woman

in my dreams

it often seems

there is a 

dawn before the sun

and the sound ringing in my ear

is a car explosion

and the people

climb the steeple

for the view of Normandy Beach

while i adjust my tie with her help

and heat water for tea

before watching the Rose Bowl

on tv

her and me

finally reaching the Red Sea

after hours of travel from Mozambique

where we swam from the shore

looking like tourists

at midnight

it seemed right

to see musicians playing electrified violins

underneath a brilliant African sky

where warlords and underdogs

ate everything they could dig their teeth into

and they drank

while we sank

like hard noodles into their fragrant broth.

goodbye to the last piece of shore, Martin Luther

goodbye
to the last piece of shore;
there was a knocking on the door!
an angry monk saw a black sky;
he tried to paint it blue
with a single drop of wet German glue;
he wore a mine owner's shoe
that left no temporary prints;
instead he left 95 shocking hints.
soon a lady sipping her cheap wine
read his hand-written note
and quickly boarded her Mediterranean-bound boat
i watched her wave from the upper-most deck
while smoking a fat cigar
i sat idle in my idling car
we were heading in different directions
and didn't seem to mind:
life is sometimes too unkind.
there was a song inside my head
i heard her humming that same tune in bed
one night as i massaged her back
she said her name was Jill when i said Jack;
she has a prominent mole
and i have a long nose
which usually follows her wherever she goes
but when she went to Istanbul
i went to Wittenberg
to write down everything i heard
about death and rebirth and reformation
from the citizenry
who mostly drank warm beer while eating stale bread
i gave them the final words the woman said
before she closed the submarine's hatch
for the final dive to the bottom of the sea
without me:
bubbles rose from my toes
when i saw her eyes shine
as she caught the last glimpse of mine
rise and shine.

i saw myself without a heart

sinking on a sofa
or in a ship at sea
lifting my head above the crowd
to see what i might see
and what a sight i saw
unsure of what it was
i kicked and prodded up and down
and wondered what it does:
a frozen stand of trees
unchanged by each hour
i saw myself without a heart
looking for a flower.