Tonight’s Flight

The dream body
Flies through the night
In the form
It chooses

The peanut gallery
Is not there

Comments do not shorten
Or change its course
Opinions are not noticed

The story of tonight’s flight
Will not be on the news

This story will be told
Only at the window
Above the river

And down
It will be swept
To the receiving sea


Our friendship is young
You open stuck windows

Your beauty threatens

But the air strengthens me
You are so kind

Rocking to the ancient
Wrinkled blues
Raspy slide jackknife

But yessss it's dangerous


Long deep black
But not black as it is long

Tangling pleasure
With unknowable shadow
Lurking patience

Long deep black years ago
There lived a monster boy
Who knew what hurt
Yessss and tears
For knowing
That the only answer
Is waiting and doing

Rocking to the ancient
Music of vibrating souls
Selves in contact tentative
As the days are both
Short and long

Changing even the deepest



Breakfast Birds

Chuck and Margie are sitting
In the tiny cold kitchen
Drinking cups of weak coffee

Warmed only by six decades
The birds out the window
Feel lucky enough

To scatter sunflower seeds
A dark radius on the snow
They may not speak or

Bickering or
Another cup without asking or
Dialing down the intensity for a moment


The lucky birds
Make it through
Another hard winter

We remember
We talk of them now




Wars For The Numb
War is entertainment
We watch fake wars when there is no real war
When the real war starts we are riveted
Hypnotized…. “The real thing”We send our children to die
To fill our emptiness with their bodies
To fill our empty TV evenings
To keep our newscasters heroicWe start a new war every twenty years
In case we run out of war stories
We must not run out of war stories
We must keep the numbness quietOh War please entertain us
Keep us numb, we pray
If you abandon us
Our pain will be upon usWe must be entertained
We have a right to be entertained
Or the real war
Will rage un-numbed within us



© 2013 POET'S MOUTH Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha