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Happy ClamGuy
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caterpillars lament
caterpillars chewing on their faces like leaves aching teeth slowing down the process it is beautiful life and death in gallant greens pastel almost and i realize i am the caterpillar choosing not to become the butterfly

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the rich cheat too
soft marriage going down like whiskey on the rocks crisper than a head of lettuce meeting the knife with chef like precision thick as syrup or an accent the maid intrudes to dust the shelf and catches the eye of david settled on the mantle the husband swoon...

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tenure
cuts pink now fading from red remind me of the time i almost got caught drinking on the job at that community college where noone cared so i just thought i would make the grading easier like the fallen statue in the courtyard whispering to the passing stude...

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muste sage
i am a headline expressionless graffiti feeding your worry if it bothers you that much just dont look at me i can announce without trekking an inch read my puzzlement i am not yours to convince anymore

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reflections on integrity
happy tides encroach surreptitiously from the north i stow the euphemisms for a moment we all need moments of silent reverie times to let the seriousness out or perhaps we would all gel over like a gushing wound there is no desert but the wind is dry my eye...

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desert laws
weeds and stones dont leave me alone on the deserts face the only place where the winds howl and the whispering owl dont watch me sleep the cacti dont weep like my mother does she is always sad because her sons a bullet contempt and feels hes exempt from th...

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travail
white noise filters like those on cigarettes dont stop the sibilant voices from penetrating my dreams shaking the bed like devil ridden steer lashing the posts i hear eyes creeping looking for the lost foothold and its no use travail travail travail i screa...

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harlequin
she hates to be rushed cold winds harry her but she doesnt remember to breathe its a disgrace i am afraid to tell her her socks dont match or that her wardrobe needs a freshening up we will celebrate later i guess that is just the way we do it here

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storefront
hairdresser charades in a fractured neighborhood where the dealers rustle in the alleys like migrant crabs its best to lock your doors wait for them to come out to you the eyes watching you from the bus stop can do nothing more than curse in silence

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tv god
tv kicks me out when i dont genuflect with proper repetition scratched knees on broken bottles lobbed in fits the advertizing is in my brain tickling my lobes itching to get out mr quadraphonic shifts his weight and looks with the utmost authority 'better j...
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