Muse

someday, it will be mourned
that I had no muse
but my own
madness.
You survive
the courtship
and live for the next
Commitment
of attention
yet myths don’t work
quite like that
in practice
all but sillage
stands in tribute
now, at the edge of
displacement
all but savagery
exists between us
now, bestial and
fragmented
the burden
of imperfect blood
our uncertain
hold on love
vacant humans
asleep on the punch
asphyxiating on the vomit
of a post-lunch
bender,
I figure she got sidetracked
by the bright lights and hollow
smiles
she always
was a sucker
for beguiling and bewitching
boys

without holiday

I am not a mother,
nor am I a father,
though a loving sibling,
son, brother

I am not a veteran
of any foreign war,
nor a president,
dignitary nor
historical
figure

I am not a laborer
fighting for equality,
nor minority
struggling for
diversity

I am not Christian,
Muslim or Jew;
in fact, I don’t believe
most follow as they are
supposed to

I am not proud
to be an American,
and don’t require
fireworks to cloud
my skies

I don’t qualify
for Cupid’s arrow
and don’t acknowledge
the dead rising in the midst
of Spring

Leech

Who are you
Who have no anchor
No past, no future
No happy ever after
Of uncommon roads
And off-beaten plots
Lost the path to light,
Hope left alone
To rot

Who are you
Without needle
Without way
No flicker of hope
The white spun gray
Lost in phantom forests
To a shadow’s call
Who are you bewildered one
Who are you after all

The said and done
Has come and gone
Wishes laid to waste
Rights wrung into wrongs
Vengeance runs tasteless
Epitaphs without song
Darkness without space
A hell everlong, torture
Everstrong

Who are you
But a nameless face
A rubbed away tombstone
A soul removed from grace
You’d construct oblivion
If you could find the trowel
To build a void betwixt
Past failures and today’s
Sorrow
So swing the mallet
Tenderize your heart
Bludgeon the will
Incise the disparate parts

Prep the leeches
To consume the disease
Eat deep and complete
Ye blinded beasts
Burrow into flesh
Feast on the meat
You are sacrifice
The end in deed
Up fron the underside
A stricken breed

Who are you
Who walks in the shade
No past, No future
No need for the human
Charade