Where the Usual Strangers Walk

whenever it’s about to


your bones get


spending the day


you were in the back of

my mind.

where the usual strangers walk.

sitting, listening to Spanish


but through a boombox

in the center of Rittenhouse.

on the corner


Big Pete play chess like

an invincible African king.


For Mother

Forgive me, if only I’d emulate

The grace that you have carried in your heart.

Abide with me, although you emanate

A modesty and humbleness, apart

I’ve been from Him and you, it’s been too long.

I have tried, and yet I fail to love

At times. The darkness in my mind is wrong.

You know there is some goodness in your dove;

Your child, the mustard seed, small but growing.

The stubborn tree, a nuisance through and through.

Yet you have taught me all about sowing,

To cut the weeds and branches gone askew.

And so I wish to let you know I’ve grown,

Because of you I’ll never be alone.


When You Were Young You Made Mistakes and Never Learned From Them

reaching an impasse with blackness

an eternal abyss


too many nights spent with strangers

avoiding bliss


no home to have


too broken to think succinctly

and leaking quicker


generosity breathes again

you cannot admit what you did to her


seconds filled with repentance


showing off with a full stomach

even though nothing is there


revelations running through rivers

another blood-soaked mare


it is bitter cold and better left unsaid


poor and wetter

immaterial benefits


iron objects penetrating

wooded penitence


expecting an embrace and only getting violence


reaffirmation of disbelief

these words carry similarity


reemerging lack of self-confidence

recognized redundancy


continuous self-aggrandizement


coughing up pretentiousness

increasing testicular pain


every endless night

hunger penetrates the brain


caged in this country


is it blue balls

or a green heart


eunuchs sharpening scythes

fuck your art


skill is not involved in this endeavor


yesterday morning she needed you

don’t talk about the weather


tonight she couldn’t wait to get rid of you

nothing is better


conversations carrying insinuations


using tongues as swords

misguided notions prevail



to no avail


Jovial and Miserable

the range life desire

as a child… nerves were shot

sitting in a cheaply-made desk

with urine-soaked pants


barely cultured,

only studying

even though an unopened

textbook in spare time


experiences enamor


an absent fierce joy

conflict and contrast

not the kind of human

you think you know


ink in mouth

and invincible regret

where is he

he won’t go away


ink in mouth… yes



Wounds Representing Winter

once our lips touch

I will have the courage

to kill myself


it is never enough

and always too much

sweeping blood and dirt


the heights are abandoned

like our souls


internet intellectuals

moths around a flame


in bed I am


internal badges

humility and shame


for no one to see

an apparition


the gray pony

knocks him into the sea

if only it was me


I want to give up these words

but I don’t know…

I barely know myself