Two-line Poem #23

Dark children of the night,

allow your poetry to take flight. 

Two-line Poem #22

When I broke your sand
dollar, I broke my own heart.

Two-line Poem #21

There's only one woman for me.

I rest my head under one tree. 

Two-line Poem #20

"Emulate the ire," my Scottish friend

said. I break the briar to make my bed. 

Choo Choo Tune

(for Theo Erickson)

Trains ain't made to fly. 

They are made to tow

all the goods we love

and blow their whistle

loud enough to stop

and say, "Hello!"

Trains are boys toys,

but cool girls like 'em
too. They make funny
noises like choo choo,
beep beep, and the brakes 
go squeak squeak!

I ride a cool train

that goes underground!

It takes me to my

writing spot where

I can see the sun come
up and watch the pretty people

walking 'round my city.

Trains make me happy.

Photo courtesy of Craig Ruttle

Laney at Mary O's

Nobody knows what happens

behind closed doors except those

attending a communal wonder:

a pianist tenaciously performing

love. 

A gloved hand hides

its sins. The working man,

pianist or carpenter, wears

his epidermal honesty. 

He lies to none

and hammers the keys. 

Aural beauty's indiscriminate—
only eyes lie to ears. 

The Texas fiend makes

ears weep at the spectacle

of his vessel that he's
flaying with piano strings. 

Yet most just sit

in silent bliss,

receiving the harmless

gift of art. 

Two-line Poem #19

There's money in vices.

Charity's in kindness. 

Two-line Poem #18

When in Rome,

eat parakeets. 

Two-line Poem #17

Meter's made by singing

to your foot-step's rhythm.