Still Drenched

the sun is still

beating hell

into this man

to say overbearing

would be underwhelming

cars holding humans

lamenting traffic

only drifting down

the street at single

horsepower speed

while this anonymous

man wishes he could

trot instead he is

confined to a

literal snail’s pace

this is not

an allegory


These Sweat Stains Mirror Profound Pain

a eulogy for a

man alive

a stranger hobbling

up south broad

overweight and


no spine just

two crutches

each one drifting

one by one

one grueling step

at a time

this local star is

overbearing on this

day that has no shelter

in early june in

the city of brotherly alienation

these humans won’t remember

him but one or two will dish out

pity or maybe even some sadness


Wishful Thinking

the scent of



a fleeting glimpse

into a time in

youth when purity

came in small doses


maybe this reminder will be

somewhat sufficient to guide me


back to innocence


Old Woman

Walking only a little

Along the Seven Woods Trail

With a Sean Bhean

Who only means well

One of the trails that Yeats frequently walked, May 27th 2013 at Lady Gregory's Estate in Coole Park
One of the trails that Yeats frequently walked, May 27th 2013 at Lady Gregory’s Estate in Coole Park

Accepting Desolation

If the animal I am

were all I ever was

then I’d be comforted

by the smallest of

things, and my worries

would evaporate at

the stroke of my ear.


Instead I take shelter

from more than just

the wind, myself,

other people, this

place could be silent.


My grave, a foreign

home, death is my master

and I a disloyal slave.