The Wanderer’s Nightsong

 

Gotcha is always

red on peaked

dudes, in my always watching

dudes be calm hot dumb vacated sweaters in

wildness. Waiting northward, baldness

reddens the dudes, awk mountains

after Goethe

 

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Good Night

 

I’d better go.

Killzone spraytanned,

I inked two cute Welsh guys with swords.

My good depth-breath

ticks on, stick-ish,

and guys flank me, whose person

cuts G O A L S.

                                            Wishing

forward, two wicked types, ferried.

I’d go and tell super fast

and pee on, reckless schoolboy.

I uttered two wish-totals, one per guy.

Add ink; it opens from two knives.

after William Carlos Williams

 

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Sonnet XXXIV

 

Even Shakespeare opens

up some question of his lover

cuz he can’t get the bitter stuff

dislodged, either “Why didst thou promise

such a beauteous day?”  or betrayal’s a hand to stick

in “[a]nd make me travel forth without my cloak.”  Some like

to stick it in for that froth, but Shakespeare breaks. My heart’s the most

when he is plain. Vis a vis protection from the elements, gear for the

outing, the sticky charge he lobs becomes ammo, so

I think his lover brave to “let base clouds o’er

take [him] in [his] way / [h]iding thy bravery

in their rotten smoke.”

after Shakespeare

 

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from Father Figures

 

When I open

my eyes there’s

some jogger

His blue suit brags

about getting

to hold him

That jogger won’t

turn me on He’s

not memory

To be out of

time’s my new kink

Mesmerized

by his pics that

make the cotton

blue shirt strain

I’m picky to

the melody

His lips

Even porn would

work more than this

poem to show

off a stranger

I predict this

one bird upon

my porch

Two have landed

on my swinging

love seat One

juttishly looks

at the other

with straw in beak

The jut of head

suggests a

mechanical

cop-out A

fluid head turn

such as mine when I

put off my

moneyed tasks

and jerk in new

positions I’m

no expert in

Came one came all

is what I’ll say

to birds Not friends

I eyes closed head

turned under a

heavy today

Two birds one swing

one me putting

it on Paper

blame game

Curl against wind

The fantasy

was me and Cruz

Lito Cruz with

his perfect worn

father figure

vibe but I step

aside my will

I’m not green

The snow says

on the love seat

I have a how

do you say it

tendency

A sky at my

mouth

Like a dog’s bark

Pairs of brackets

I now put what

some might say is

secondary

stuff into

just to spill

I have to

I’m like the snow

Sulked under

the sun it is

becumming