As I Was Scribed

Just as your favorite song subscribes you to a composition

synched with metered rhyme and breath meditative like fire chants 

the art was on purpose and propaganda.

so  /

don’t be mistaken or fooled by a joker.

you have been allowed to walk and write within the words of yesterday’s scribes.

Dream makers sculpted you landowners and entrepreneurs,

educators and world travelers,

…If we have to live within the words we write

what does tomorrow look like?

and can our children survive without us?


Dinner and Breakfast


His relation to magic
unsettled her reasoning like clumped / moistened
brown sugar.

Stole coochie hairs from her bath towel
and put a root on her

His tongue was like a palm leaf…
covered her back with his intentions in one lick
her nipples were like cotton candy and licorice
every time he’d push them together to satisfy his sweet tooth
she’d deliriously promise to join the circus.

He went down like Hennessey,
straight lined and strong

He looked her in the eye like daybreak
she flipped her
body like a pancake
Here’s to dinner and breakfast.
as he scratched thunder
up the backs of her thighs.

From the book, “Pocket Honey, Wind & Hips”. Get your copy at