Go Ahead

The world is full of heads

Big heads, small heads

Black heads and white heads

And all together they bounce and twirl

And some wear crowns and some wear hats

And some wear hair and others are bare.

A certain kind of head shifts from side to side

Some speak true on their greasy pivots

And others are blue shaking in stiffened jots.

If in a syncopated rhythmic bop

I see your head give a merry stop

I will put a smile on mine and head for thine

And place on the bottom of yours a kiss

And watch your head grow into a balloon of bliss

And we’ll turn and face the northern wind

And walk along the reddening bed

Of sky forlorn for every fellow dead

Who in centuries past did lose his head

For bashing his hard against the guard

Of a mighty head over how much bread

I’m glad my head lives now instead

It’s heavy to my neck for all the miles I’ve tread

And soon it’ll plop sideways in time for bed

Hopefully in the morning I’ll still have my head

If you’ve got yours now then good for you

If you know where this is going then go ahead

Cocktail

Chatter and a low murmur

Plunging occasionally into a tune,

Lost in dark crystal eyes like space.

Between the sighs and telling laughs,

We, the crowd, swam halfway up

To just right and still so cool-

Bubbly and brownian.

Down the side of your wet wine glass

We, the two, slid slowly down

And dropped into understanding,

Splashing with joy and release
Measured in creases in figures cut and perfect faces

That could not hide resplendent souls

And target gladness, fun and joy.

Wine and cheese and shoes and carpet.

Water, water, we were water

And we drank deep, and drunk

Found a light made in every evil

We loved the moment butterflying

Between flowery pools in impossible life

Hypnotic laugh and overflowing not knowing

Caked Gum

Step by step I measure out a night

Spent looking through glass windows

At dimly-lit faces seated around dark wooden tables.

Occasionally, I slow down to appreciate

The graceful flicking of a wrist

Or the courageous placement of a palm,

And my heart smiles in recognition:

Camaraderie in this city of ones,

Conjoined twos and awkward threes.

I jump over puddles reflecting the black sky

And watch for yellow taxis carrying

Melancholy passengers to beds in thin rooms

Where they will succumb to the streets' muted symphony

Wafting through shutters and landing beside tired ears

While I continue marching alongside foreign soldiers.

To the rooftops, I imagine we appear united—

We all have legs, we are all careful,

And lightly place gazes upon each other.

I walk some more, so much myself,

With a transient shadow and recoiling reflections.

I keep my hands in my pockets fingering my phone,

Narrowing my eyes and stiffening my cheeks.

I breathe in their cigarette smoke that I hate to like

Before I descend sticky steps into the subway’s void.

After the humid air congeals on my skin

I hop into a screeching car,

And then I stare at lines and sterile lights,

Pictures and shoes, eyes then eyelids,

And I feel so acutely me,

I feel remarkably divorced,

Yet I long for momentary bondage

And losing my reflection’s wide-eyed interest.

My weary yawn is a silent “City, take me.”

Score Four Me

Floating in anomie,

Anonymous in the morning,

Powerless against the tyranny

Of the alarming clock.

[Modellers, never forecasters,

Mathematics has won!

Dictating that many masters
Be more free than the one.

Il n'y a pas plus de confort,

In lieu, many will not see.

It's why I still smile wry in the street

Bidding you hello-adieu.

Just like I said goodbyes,

Like a short while ago,

To philistine monies for eyes

I gouge out to survive each day.

Sucks, at the age of twenty four

I hear a hungry tsetse fly

Singing that idyllic lullaby,

Right outside my wooden door.

It says, "Your feet are pressing sand,

Watching the waves arrive.

Undressing child, your heroes swim!

Prim as proper, you too will dive."]