Mescalito-scented thoughts

screwjack, herb infusion
sparking this lonesome night
with a southern desperation
desires that go ignored
mocked by this white bowl
full with crimson
mescalito-scented thoughts
welcome unhinged inspiration
as i begin to drape my naked night sky
with clusters of succulent pigmy grapes
from a faraway champagne region


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Build me a tower

like the one I climbed called Tor

with spiraling steps

leading to a Writer’s nest

over-looking the coolest of blue waters below


i promise to pen

’till my fingers no longer will bend,


day’s end

from my clumsy, careless, yet eternally earnest,

threadbare bellows


I’ll call out to you, my love

high from above

the crinkly-edged garden we tend

your name will you hear,

as if meadow larks appear

conducting a chorus-induced drug



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sun draping willow wet
from out the window
fading silhouette
sweetened fragrance
dripping amber essence
from a spring
growing out of me
a tidy breeze
midsummer’s eve
washes whisps of giddy
through dusty eves

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Paper Crane

racing pounding
rushing urgency
each sharp crease
a promise
every fold
a sigh
one thousand times
letting go

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Beige Town

from dada to punk
to a
borrowed bed in beige town
i don’t need to be afraid
if i do not want.
the desert is unaware
of my morning hour
blank stares
wondering, if i seek her
will she make me a mystic?
help doff off this existence
join soul to soul
with a color-filled resistance
against these beige filled hours
each time a day is born?

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a taste for things to come
our climax grows so near so near
yes, i know this sapor well

remembering how, before
when my face would sour
no palate no tolerance
for what a connoisseur
will devour

finely aged by now
brined by seas of salty, willowy weeps
impregnated flavors
wash over this junkie’s tongue
gobbets, juicy and tender
swished but never swallowed

maturing, an appetite for you

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Bonny Dune

Days roll in roll out
With quiet tide
I am drifting

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