Thursday, June 25, 2015

Cocoa



My dog is 15 years old

He’s still a champ
As far as senior age goes

He has a hard time getting up

It’s a struggle

His hips are going

He walks slow
And when I let him out
In the morning
He pees for 30-40 seconds straight

Nonstop

You’d think he was pissing
His last piss

One of them will be

His teeth are receding
Or falling out

He smells terrible
But I don’t tell him

I just wash and shampoo him
As often as I can

He doesn’t like it

He tolerates it
Sometimes baring his teeth
Under a curled black lip

I have to remind him
Who I am

These days
He’s shedding so much hair
I fear for his masculinity

I vacuum it up daily
Filling canisters
And dumping them 
In the trash

When I tell him
I love him
He looks at me unresponsive
Or quizzically
Through foggy brown eyes

We’ve been through a lot together

He’s slow to take a treat

He’s maintenance now

Long past are the days
Where I threw a stick
Out into the Delaware River
Over and over

It didn’t matter
How far I threw it

Cocoa 
Would always
Swim out and retrieve it
Bring it back to shore
And tease me
With it
Running around
Refusing to give it up
Easily

Baring perfect teeth
Sunk into the wood’s flesh
Growling

I miss that fight 
My friend

Monday, June 22, 2015

Medicine Cabinet



After exploring the meds
In my parent’s 
Medicine cabinet
While recently visiting

To see exactly what they were on

And pilfering
A hand-full
Of the good stuff

Shutting the twin doors

Looking into
The sterilized mirrors

Staring

Realizing
That someday
Not too far off

The commute towards death
Is closer 
Than I think

That I will 
Be much like my parents

I can see the 
Same shared physical features
There in the glossy glass

They are smaller
Than I last remember them
And move slower
Outside the bathroom door

I know
They visit the doctor
On a regular basis

I recall the denture cream
The Preparation H
The pain-aids

The brown and white
Plastic pharmacy bottles
With laser printed labels
On clean shelves
Behind Home Depot mirrored glass

On my way out

Wiping my hands
On peviously un-used
Pretty guest towels
With a seashore theme
And kiss them goodniight

The lawn sprinklers came on
As I was walking out the door

Being careful to protect my pockets
And their acquired bounty
So they wouldn’t get wet
Until I reached my car
Got into the stale smell
Shut the door
And waved
Good-bye

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Honeysuckle


Honeysuckle





I just pushed my face
Into a wild honeysuckle patch
While walking in the woods.

The smell was rousing and spirituous.

Then nature’s art
Of a small, simple, smooth flower
Of ivory and gold.

Much like
When I’m divining
Between her thighs
The nectar
Seeps forth
Aromatic
And seducing.

Beauty is everywhere.

If you turn over some stones
Get close to the ground
Listen...

Perhaps...

I pull my head 
Out of honeysuckle.

I press forward on.

Always.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Peonies


Spring is the peonies bursting
Through tight green woolen cloaks
Swollen pink
Like dog flesh
Firm
Eager and ready 
To do the deed

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Strip Club



“Yo Slick!”

“This is Beverly, the new bartender.”

“She’s gonna be here six nights a week.”

“Doesn’t she have nice skin?”
He asked
Rubbing his fingertips
Up and down her pale arm.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Beverly sweetie...I’m buying Slick’s drinks.”

“Wotcha gonna have?”
She asked me.

The lighting was terrible in this dive.
Yellowish.

“What kind of vodka do you have?”

I was met with a blank stare.

“You have Grey Goose?”

She looked at me.

She went to check the bottles.

“No.”
She said coming back.

“Just gimme what you got.”

“Hey! You have olives or a twist?”

Again with the hollow stare.

“I’ll just take it straight up.”

She poured a small glass 
Of watered down vodka.

I looked at G
Clinking glasses.

“What a dump!” 

I tapped my glass against his.

There were about 3 or 4 girls in bikinis
Taking turns on the pole
Unenthusiastically.

There wasn’t enough of a crowd
To really get them dancing.

Instead they hovered 
Around the bar 
And got groped for tips.

I felt an ass or two.

I finished my drink.

Since the vodka
Was so disappointing
I asked Beverly
What kind of whiskey she had.

Again
“What kind do you want?”

Again
“What kind do you have?”

She went and looked.

She slurred through them 
With me
And I told her
I would do the Black Label.

She was already onto something else.

“Let’s go out and smoke.”
G said.

“I got some dynamite.”

“Let’s go then.”

“Hey gorgeous!”
I said loudly across the bar
On my way out.

“No ice in my drink!  I’m stepping outside for a smoke with G and I’ll look for it on the bar
  when I get back.”

I winked at her.

We walked past the pool table
And through the entrance
Out into the cold night.

G immediately lit up a bowl.

Cars passed on the highway
To our right.

Ironically
There was a Friends Of Bill
Right next door.

We proceeded to get lifted.

We went back inside
And sat down.

Still no drink.

A few more tits.
A few more asses.

Beverly comes up
And asks me 
If I want a drink.

I roll my eyes at G.
“Are you shitting me?”

“Black Label.  No ice!”

She then disappeared 
For at least five minutes.

She came back
And proceeded to make some drinks
And put them down in front of us.

“We didn’t order those.”
I told her.

“Omg! Omg! Omg!  Don’t say anything!”

“I forgot who ordered these!”

She looked around the bar.

There was only like
15-20 of us sitting there.

She finally found them.

At this point the owner 
Is behind the bar
Watching her
Out of the corner 
Of his eye.

She bounces back
And asks what she can get me.

G’s still got a half of a glass.

“Really?”
I ask her.

I have no idea what she is on.

“Black Label.  No ice.”

She sways and grabs the bottle.

She puts down two shot glasses.

She spills into the first
And starts on the second.

“I only wanted one!”
I exclaimed.

“C’mon!”
G said.

“A chaser!”

“G.  I’m only drinking one.”

“Fine.”

I was about to pick my shot up
When Beverly slurred
“Wait!”

She spilled Black Label
Into the second shot glass
With an unsteady hand.

She capped the bottle
And put it down.

She then raised the glass
Looking me in the eye
And smiled.

We both swallowed.

“Here’s to your first night!”
I toasted.

I looked at G laughing.

I started laughing.

Beverly stumbled away.

“Holy shit!”
I said 
Looking at him.

We were both laughing hard now.

“G.”
I said.

“She might have nice skin, but she’s never going to make it six nights.”



Saturday, March 7, 2015

Le Deux Gamins



It’s unfortunate.

The more that the years pass
The more distant the memory.

Or was it a dream?

When I sat outside
In my boisterous years

At a cafe table
Set up
In front of 
Le Deux Gamins
In the warm spring
In the West Village.

Watching the morning sun explode
Salmon orange
In the east
Inbetween
And above the dark buildings
Canyonizing 
The city 
Yawning before me.

I was eating the best almond croissant
That NYC had to offer.

And when the French waitress or waiter
Went back inside
I poured brandy 
Into our over-sized soup bowl
Cafe au laits.

We would watch
The last flambouyant creatures 
Walk past
Shedding all-nighters
From the Stonewall
Or the Monster
Just around the corner.

After
We would take our newspapers
Or journals
Out to Sheridan Square
Which was really not a square
But more of a triangle
And listen to the late morning unfold 
Around us
Amongst unfurling green leaves
And flowering buds
Hustlers and homeless people
Garbage tumbling in the breeze
New spring birds
Figuring 
Their 
“Jump-In” level
To the old school guard
Against the symphony 
Of traffic.

At the time

The 
Rest of the day
Was a multicolored jawbreaker

A syrupy gift
That lasted slowly
Against the pace 
Of the city

Unfolding
With every footstep 
I took.

Back then 
It was not unheard of
To walk by foot
Back and forth
From the East Village
To the West
And 
Vice versa.

Not much else of importance existed 
Below Canal Street
Or above 14th.

Paradise was here
Where
Every step I took
Was a piece of confectionery magic.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Kitten



This adorable smoky grey kitten
Brings me her toys 
Like a puppy
Into the bed
Early morning
Every morning
While I’m drinking
Strong coffee
Waking
To play.

She’s an indoor kitten.

She doesn’t 
Even know 
That when
I walk out of 
That door
That I’m going to have 
To deal with a corporate government.

Police brutality.

Unjust wage wars.

Climate change.

Terrorism.

Factory farming.

Monsanto.

The fact that my son can’t skateboard in public spaces.

Slashing to education and the arts.

Fracking.

Mountaintop removal.

Irresponsible oil spills.

Walmarts and lobbying.

United States policing the rest of the world
Instead of taking care of it’s own.

The failing war on drugs.

Gun related killings.

The fact that we’ll kill a bear
Because it came in our backyard
Which was rightfully theirs
To begin with.

Human overpopulation.

The failure to deal with
Mental disorders
In a practical way.

Racism.

Homophobia.

Consumption.

Arrogance.

Ignorance.

Holier than yours religion.

Trash.

The 1% factor.

Really bad popular music.

And when I walk in the door...

The kitten just wants to play.

She just wants to play.