Unaffected Fool
The feminine winter
it’s skin, tissue paper
legs unshaven
The masculine winter,
with his even stride
believes he can reconstitute her
Monochrome

In everything I am or do I am monochromatic. In things I think and simple tasks simplicity There is a need to make a theme In single color, I nightly dream a single voice in the cacophony of screams single digit mathematics As a mother I should have the knack to decorate my hectic life in plaid and coordinate the many tasks with ease but exclusively I focus most on the distinct hue that needs a host the holistic completeness
captivates me.
Wasteland
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A gallon of American living
poured into an empty flask
greasy, with its amber mistakes
breaks the spoons of the hungry mouths
The forceful swallow
of all the shallows,
grabbing love in desperate places.
The brine, it bubbles
as it fills the pits
and goopy rubble still exists
in the wasteland latrines that pepper this putrefied province.
Balanced Guilt is a Good Thing
Guilty, Guilty Guilt
if you have it,
you have a heart.
But too much
can leave your life in ruins.
If you learn how
to avoid guilt entirely,
you’re either approaching perfection
or are a soulless monster.
Crippling guilt,
your presence and lack of it
both mean doom
for a soul.
Sure Footing

Too cautious,
I only step
where there is sure footing
which must be why
I can’t dance
like those bold souls
who flail about
without care
(and usually some grace).
A degree of calculation,
is my step
before any step,
tossing chance to the wind
and to the wolves,
and certainty,
my hovering angel.
But I
would rather be
paralyzed in fear
than misstep.
Stagnation
a better outcome
than risk.
Snapshot conversation
A man brings a woman a glass of red wine and a cocoa dusted truffle. He gently teases the truffle into the woman’s mouth. She follows up with a gulp of wine and lets out a moan.
“Mmm. That was an ideal communion.”
“Oh yeah? But with a truffle?”
“Yeah. I really appreciate the brotha that gave his life so I could eat and drink of him. Something about black men reminds me of chocolate. It really gets my mouth watering.”
(Laughs) “Oh?! And what’s wrong with a cracker?”

The Voyage of the Enigmatic Body
The back is the Pacific Ocean of the body
so vast and open
it’s ridges, exposed islands
and ribs like ripples
rolling towards the shore
…..
The arms are the maps of the body
with trails, tracks, story-scratched
highway veins, tattooed names
and territories light and dark,
half sun-marked
and hands that tell you where to go
…..
The eyes are the moons of the body
glowing, round radiant,
distant and ofttimes cold
celestial and mystic
piercing through you and millions of miles away all at once.
…..
The hair is the clouds of the body
swirling, curling around those lit moons
Sometimes calm and sometimes stormy,
drifting over mountains and oceans
always in motion
…..
The shoulders are the mountains of the body
bearing the weight of the world,
buried in the mist of clouds
standing tall and proud
or bravely chiseled by time
…..
The legs are pillars of the body
often of ruins or great oaks
tested through time
and still erect, if not a little cracked
supporting what was once great
and drawing our eyes to heavens above
…..
The belly is the shore of the body
the land, the sand
where children are raised
and man lays his head
it’s a centrifuge, a core, and more
a middle ground worth fighting for
…..
the bosom is the tree of the body
with two red leaves
bearing fruit for all to eat
with passing seasons change and wilt
it’s sibylline beauty
almost eternal
…..
The vagina is the spring of the body
welling sublime waters from deep within
giving life
from it’s stark abyss
a fountain that sustains
and nourishes its thirsty patron
…..
The enigmatic body is an earth,
a heavenly creation
of vast planes and craters
harnessing it’s unique and unrivaled
beauty, purpose and divine transformations
and only its climate determines
its inhabitants
Snapshot conversation
My daughter, currently caught between childhood and the heavy dealings of maturity was watching a game show.
“Name something you take care of so it will last a long time.”
“Cars” “Jewelry” “A home” “pets”
“Stupid people! Say Relationships! Marriage and relationships!”
Folks, this nearly brought a tear to my eye. She’s learning.
T’wats the Night Before Christmas
T’was the night before Christmas and in the back of the house her juices were stirring with lust for her spouse. .
Her stockings undone from the garter with care In hopes that his thickness would soon meet her bare The children, all nestled and snug in their beds Had no idea this affair had come to a head .
Mom, in her corset, and dad, with the whip Started with a kiss, as he ordered her to strip. When over the pillow, her hair layed, scattered He sprang on the bed, as if only she mattered. .
Away she worked like an impulsive flash as he throttled and pounded, with eager, her gash The moon on her breast like new fallen snow Made it easy for him to see where his tongue should go .
To his wondering eyes, all a sudden did appear Her legs, round his head, and her moment drawing near He started to drive her, so lively and quick He knew in a moment what made her tick .
More rapid than coursers she came and she came She sighed and she moaned and she called out his name “Oh, take me, ahhh yes! Yes! YES! YESSSSS!” said the vixen On top or on bottom, on hope chest they’re fixin’ .
To the heights of their being, and up against the wall They grind away, sweating for the best gift of all. Their bodies , like leaves in a wild hurricane fly meeting, enmeshing, and mount to the sky .
To the tips of the universe, like quarks and gluons they flew Using a night stand full of toys, and their bodies, toys too, and then, with a twinkling, in both their eyes the petting and pawing brought the greatest surprise .
He withdrew his hands, and then quickly turned her around Down her proverbial chimney, he came with a bound Stroking her fur, titillated from head to foot Smashing and lashing the crest of her butt. .
His bundle, unleashed, pendulum swinging, front to back Retaining the swelling in his bulging sack. Her eyes- how they twinkled! His chest how it heaved Her bosoms like roses, fast to them, he cleaved. .
Her droll little mouth drawn up like a bow opening and closing with each mighty blow The stump of his shaft, held tight in her teeth, Looked like an angel breathing on a wet Christmas wreath .
His face broad with pleasure, hair tickling his belly, made him thankful their coital gifts never required jelly. His member, chubby and plump, withdrew from herself Ready to finish off this fine milf. .
With a wink of his eye, and a nod of her head She was thrown back to the edge of the bed. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work Rhythmic, pounding, with just the right jerk. .
And simultaneously, as both parties chose, He filled up her chimney as their pulses both rose. They sprang to the porch, to have a quick smoke And commented how it was, by far, the best Christmas poke .
Back in bed, pulses rested, exclaims to his wife Sweetheart, thank you for another Merry Christmas tonight.
Coitus Cubed
You are butter
smooth, delicious and slippery
pale, creamy, lip-licking sweet.
spread and sizzle
melt all over me
let us make a dish to savor
a flesh flash flavor
coitus cubed
now liquefied and lubed
rising, bubbling heat
a dairy drizzle
enamorous effussive eats
creamed and volume heightened whippery
so tasty, I’m all aflutter
I’m a crappy gift, and you’re the gift wrap
I wanna drink this down hard and fast
feel it hit my sour tummy
and wrap myself all up in you.
I am so sad
and feel like going on a rampage
no, a binge
of self-destruction
and some soft lips
a warm blanket
and a little comfort may help me forget
whatever it is that is bringing me down.
The Biggest Bang
What hot mass weighs on your heavy soul?
Does it burn clear through to the bottom
and free fall into that limbo-like stratosphere
where your heart hovers?
With a searing clinch
let me melt my hands
leaving, not finger prints,
but my touch, a gift of burnt skin
fused to your fiery surface.
I will trace my obscene confession in the sky
with blood and fire
and when next we meet,
our fervent union will become a blazing star
illuminating all the heavens
and we will detonate with such a thunderous blast
that a new era will dawn.
Great Escape
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Got a womb for rent
going cheap
for a tired grown man
who needs a place to sleep
It’s got red velvet curtains
heated floors, so much more
adorned in fleshy luxury
and free of oozing sores
Hide away, deep in my belly
away from the sour world
and coo to the sound of heart beats
and lullaby gurgles, sublimly swirled
The walls so thick, slick
ne’er impenetrable, few exits
make for a retreat, sweet and Freudish.
Dry up and die
Snapshot conversation
“Yes, I can’t remember your name, but I remember your face.”
“Oh, that’s funny. You should be remembering my legs, breasts and the small of my back.”
Mellowfluous
On days like these
ink creeps down the confessing page
rain slides down the windows
and blood weeps slow through my polar veins
the coffee perks and drips in sync
and someday soon
all these liquids will efface
amalgamize in a swirl in the palm of my hand
and I will smear them down my sullen face

Maritime Melancholy

Months lost at sea with all these knots and thoughts that will not hold tight slipping and giving the wind my sails .
The creaking sway a lullaby of loneliness a cradle a heaping ladle of maritime melancholy my flag, a sun-bleached map .
Is it a voyage when you are lost and content to be tossed upon the miles of tumultuous waves praying for landlessness hopelessness, a welcome compass?
Rendered Handsome
catching the afternoon sun How he glistens smooth to touch His sculpted curves give me a rush Apparently, the Lord’s work is done.









