The Rats (here they come)

The rats of potent truth
come at night
to eat my bones
and
learn my secrets
They know
me too well now
and
my flavour is beginning
to sour
They realize
their pursuit has been
a waste of time

There is no new information
in my organs

My heart tastes like
Sangria and buttered toast,
the arteries are clogged
with
plastic love

Being With You

When I’m
with you
I’m not with me
and that is both
the solution
and
the problem

At it’s very
root canal
you are the water in my oil
separate
and connected
combined by
our immune systems
breathing each other
Intertwined, no, interwoven
together like
Man and nature

In Bed

Draw circles
on her belly
with pen

She laughs
at how I
sleep

I am a
hairy furnace
She is
my cold purpose

She can have
most of
the blankets

I just need
her there
with goosebumps

giving me
a reason
to see how beautiful
a life can be

Silver Surf

somewhere new
with
someone new
and the waves
go crash and crash
under the San Simeon Moon
with silver reflections
on the surf
and California’s
constellations glimmering
in the sky

Heart break
seemed inevitable
as I watched her
visage smoke another smoke

so I threw old
stones into the ocean
knowing that “us” would end
but not this, not the surf and the moon with its projections

and the waves go crash and crash

Poem About Poems

The best poems
are heavy and obvious
There is no doubt
or lack of clarity in the words
There is just
pure honesty and connection

Everyone involved
rises above being alive
just for a moment

and then you notice
during the float
back down, that
you were in Shangri la