HOME RUN

Would that I
could tap her
memory out of
me with a hammer

and a well positioned
nail from which to
hang nothing from
but blessed relief

The practice went
out of style I hear
Why Old Mister
Jenkins used to
do it for free

TEAR

when this poem
 fills up that
is when
it will
drop

CAUSELESS EFFECTS

loop of wire
unvisible
tightening

a wound
self-afflicted
bitten across
time lapse

in lieu of spreading
mold, portions of
flesh removed

GEMPOINT

rest inside your eye
escape through a wink
reflected on the stairs

as they're passing by
and don't you think for a
second the test you or I

would make them blink or
even take them beyond

the sovereign halls for
a reckoning, realizing
themselves in the sky;

instead, they'd fall as
stowaways in a teardrop

carefully placed inside
a hidden oasis under
the sands of your face

TENDERGARDEN

think of the devil
call it chaos, reality
evil, whatever

anyone can sit
around providing proof
there's no such thing as
good or evil until the
cows come home

at the end of the day
someone has to know
that evil is alive
and well

I can choose to let
fate work it out

allow the gears
of the reeling cosmos
execute whatever justice

then any of a billion
equally terrifying fates
randomly awaits

I'd rather not place myself
on the yawning altar of space
as a piece of bait like that...

Instead I choose
to wield a pen
and interlock my shield
with fellow men

to direct hell itself
away from us
and decant it back
into the vacuum

If I do nothing
the dark side of
the wild will seize

and take root
in my blood

using my body
as the clay pot