Friday, November 27, 2015

Good After Another

Reading other's poems
And wondering
Am I a slacker?
They write poems
Good after another

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

You Out There?

Each of us

                           An island

Of conciousness.

I don't understand

                               How it's possible
           To                                                        communicate

Saturday, November 21, 2015

I See Her

I see her on her first date
And I see her decide that she
Will give it a shot and that
She will not react to me.
Will not react to me.
And I honour her and
Take such joy from the fact
That she had to decide that.
She saw something in me
That made her have to choose.

Thursday, November 12, 2015

The Open Mike - Voz Sin Tinta

She stood, impassioned
And, (by memory!) seized
Our imaginations and then
Our very souls.

I had to follow that!

So I said, as we do, that
I had mine not by memory
(Though I did have my smart phone).
It is a tradition you see.

Then she, not even knowing
Of my worship,
Said that it was ok because
I have green in my  hair.

Well! I hadn't even started reading
And already I was a hit.

Monday, November 9, 2015

That Look

There's a kind of look –

    a graceful lank.

Somewhere between

    tomboy lesbian

        and — gymnast.

With smart.

    And smirk.

        And sudden pirouette.

Inhabits her voice.

    Knowing yet joyous smile.

I like that look.


Saturday, November 7, 2015


Here's the thing.
When I quit long ago,
I swore to be supportive,
But when I hear you wheeze,
When you tell me about the polyps,
I am enraged, and even I,
Calm placid Patrick, I
Want to rage,
And rant.


Latina girl
Hispanic beauty
Why can't I stop
Thinking about you?

Friday, November 6, 2015

Hurting us.

He kept abusing her
Demeaning, yelling
I asked him not to yell.
It was hurting us.

Friendly Puppy

When I've been drinking I am like a friendly puppy:

Hey! You want to like me?
Hey! You want to like me?
Hey! You want to like me?
Hey! You want to like me?

At least I don't poke my nose anywhere.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015


You worked me for six dollars
And then you ran off to deal with those
That you care for.

I am not your chump
Do not think that i will be your bank
You burnt that bridge.

It is the end.
The end.

Bye bye.

Tuesday, November 3, 2015


What does it mean
When I am too drunk to resolve two into one?
Do I see some gem-like deeper truth?
Am I given over to another reality
Because I am loosed?
Is there something more that in our
Quotidian truth we miss?


The gem-like glow of drunk
Unable to see one
Shards of reflection
One? Four? More?
Is this more?
Is this precision?
Is this beauty?
I don't know.
I know who I yearn toward
But I do not dare to say.


I see the light cast on her glint red hair
And I shift. Towards her gleam
Toward her glow.
And it is only exactly her glow
That perfects the light.
That perfects the light.
I lean toward.


What does it mean
When I look at one woman
When I look at another woman
And one seems more desirous
Than another.

I don't know.
I see it. I react to it.
I do not understand it.

There are slender variants
That loom large.
I suspect that my genetics
Have a voice. Truly
A powerful voice.
I want her more than her.
I don't know why.
I don't know why.
I do.


Here is the truth.
The cutting you fear
Is my sacrament
Designed for power
Bringing my sanity
Your standards not mine
Your power not mine.
Cutting mine.