Conquesting The Kitchen

When did my lost love make her last meal?
In what arid kitchen did she roast her last hen?
Was it turquoise-tiled like a home in Navarra?
Did she throw back some sherry as the flavors
The roasting of her hen is exquisite.
Young men of Brooklyn
have you tasted the salt on its skin?

Oblivion has erased us.
Time simply wallowed.
Oblivion in the alcohol we drink each night we’re
She has a forehead I breathed many mornings.
Young men of Brooklyn
have you tasted the salt of her hen?

The security of money.
The conquests of capitalism.
Or was it called love in the muscles of our bodies?
Young men of Brooklyn
find her blue eyes with the flaking subway walls
behind them,
discover the salt of her hen
in the middle of her kitchen’s daylight.

When did my lost love make her last meal?
Young men of Brooklyn
find the spices of her kitchen,
let her tongue teach you these carnal anthems.

Phases From The Universe

It was extraordinary

to love the days I did
with you

There were days
in the
Bagdad Theatre
in Portland, Oregon

I lived with you
Before I even knew you
There were days after you
Days between LSD trips
when knowledge became

I saw you there
in the flesh
over the low trimmed carpet
moving your curves
the daylight
in the lobby

Then, there was a breakfast
around the corner
where I remembered your smell

and the sun came out
to tell me the fable of how
time reconciles itself
in the various phases of the
physical universe

It said, that was the point of
you and I

to notice what goes unnoticed

to love what is fleeting with
the textures of mortal soul

to become information

The Loves Oceanic

These things that give suspension to atoms

These things of the being

They’re being and been in my heart for your love

They cause for your blue eyes

The cells of my dreams

Windows of the way the sunshine was with you

In Mexico
after you ate the hibiscus flower and wept

Down a damp street in Dallas

As the snow came flying down in New York City

To make a parade or make us all crazy

To make us cuddle and feel like enchiladas in our

The sunshine was still there

When your buttressed lips kissed me and I felt

My mind tilt like the cascading cliffs of Ireland




Into the crisp and unforgiving coldness of the Sea


And because of that coldness I am preserved forever

Where you reside within me

On this planet

In the depths of the ocean

“The Stars Of This Poem”

Not with the soft hands
that leave me
these are made of desert sand
a different house
a house of hours
underneath the configurable stars
turns the clock from orange to red
some new technology runs
on board a space ship
so a new time is born
one that is free from revolutions

In a cave
below a chalky canyon
I believe in you
for your precious script of DNA
your chestnut brown hair
the journey of your lips

my bones turn to dust

they kiss their galactic sojourn

They are the stars of this poem

Aloft In Blue In The Southern Night

The trains have not rearranged
my heart

I tried and I tried

They ran down by the river

past ancient oak trees

on the edge of town

Late at night
they awoke me

brought a stillness to the air

I sat with you there

felt your curved and fecund lips

Then they let out a resounding howl

and I awoke from being with you

My chest ached

I was with the dead

A scent of mineral and cream
walked out into the streetlamp glow

further into the forests

vanishing into the wake of ghosts

Millionaires Of Nothingness

Millionaires Of NothingnessWhen you loved me
on the beach
what can I say of
your heart?

what chased you in
the sky breaking from
that day
quarts of red and blue Budweiser
on the sand
in paper cups
in the daylight
of Coney Island

the roller coasters
seemed frozen
but our life
was joyous
and celebratory
in those simple eternal moments
when you loved me
and burned to kiss me