The moon, arms out,

a night sun,

stretching out upon eclipsed sky,

the only pretty thing I've seen

between flashing Erector-set towers

and the billboard advertisements,

coming unstuck from wooden backs,

stuck somewhere in synapses,

weighing my options for me,

subliminally advising,

supersize your burger and fry,

cheap cigarettes are 15 exits ahead,

buying a new economy car

and trying a little church

can save you a lot,

but I dunno,

I've seen tremendous pain this trip,

breath and depth

fizzling out of beautiful people,

holding on too relentlessly to some,

cold bodies and colder minds,

dependent variables in this abstract of life,

just sifting sands in biology's hour glass,

a state of matter

as a matter of fact,

but sometimes to pause is my only option,

a man with no legs,

eating Monday's cabbage on Tuesday,

tells his 50 year old son to drive home safely,

"I love you, my boy," he says

"Come back when you can ."

The moon follows me, tonight,

closely, faithfully,

along this long, long highway,

East 64,

and I remember your soft touch,

the way it will feel when I slip into our bed,

second best thing, new sheets,

cool and comforting,

first best thing, you, my love.

I'll be home soon,

my old friend, the moon,

nestled in the trees,

right outside our bedroom window

sls 4-12-17

Disappear, you did,

the space you left,

burning out from memory,

attenuating as the sun does,

circle turning bright to black

when eyes shut tightly,

pretty common for liars and thieves

to temporarily blind,

fools gold has no lasting luster,

but once in hand,

it's yours until you put it down,

depravity masked as what it's not

is such a heavy, yet vacuous stone

to carry upon backs,

spines curved for walking upright

-sls 4/10/17

The digs were grueling yet mind numbing,

the sweltering heat, a catharsis for the body 

Plodding hand plow, dredging up dirt in fold over piles, 

Rote mechanics spilling over splinters upon weeds 

The sweltering heat, a catharsis for the body,

Calloused skin melded into wood, dripping brow, 

Rote mechanics spilling over splinters upon weeds,

Sweat, the tears of labor, watering the soil 

Calloused skin melded into wood, dripping brow,

Parched ground, a forced precedent to the souls thirst, 

Sweat, the tears of labor, watering the soil ,

Building upon days, time the only benefactor of barren pantries, 

Parched ground, a forced precedent to the souls thirst,

Poverty etched in every root and limb,

Building upon days, time the only benefactor of barren pantries, 

With thinning harvests and sinewy wasting, hunger was an indisputable  promise for tomorrow

All calked off,

when, in reverie,

your voice,

my brain buzzing,

I followed dark turns

for more,

in black and white haze,

I could hear you above it all,

the ring announcer on ceiling mic,

the crowd going wild,

foaming at the mouth,

snarling dogs ready

for an unmatched match,

two opponents,

bikini wrestling trunks,

slickly oiled chests,

meaty legs,

one slated winner,

the other will be loser,

and you, your mom, your son,

finding your seats,

squeezing to slide in,

dodging intoxicated moves

from one who was more show

than the show,

and your mom, aghast,

echoing what you said,

"This is crazy,"

We used to meet in shadows

covered by the side of your house,

facing fields that kept our secret,

but that was a different kind of crazy.

Comedic rescue,

tumbleweeds whistling,

caught in winded discourse,

nervous laughter or

melting into linoleum,

silence can be deafening

When she says my name,

butterflies beg release,

powder wings fluttering

against the glass jar,

tickling my viscera,

I open my mouth

to give them flight,

to set them free,

but they've decided to stay,

our love feels this good

020617

This dream it does recur,

I am swallowed by the ocean,

a slow train approaching,

I watch to see if it will stop,

facing the swell,

counting the seconds of breath left,

holding myself for a rescue,

ready to loosen feet from mind,

when the sea bleeds black,

and my awake self lifts the shade,

the rain is steady but light,

hitting the pane,

belying the urgency of slumber

Wild girls are hot,

the tongue delights,

such lascivious delights, 

all the right words, 

mountains and mountains of words,

glorious mountains and peaks,

eye to eye, upright,

craving a little downtime,

eye to eye, supine,

begins the dance,

hands and skin,

soft blur, 

all the colors and sounds blend,

and so begins the minds descent, 

lust donned love,

she's not a reader, this one, 

grand plans built on weak scaffolds, 

but we'll call it romance,

call it "in love," 

and lie a little longer, 

until we sleep deeply,

not to awake, 

afraid of awake,

muting the questions,

those beg truth,

and that begs change,

now for all the words right,

there are more wrong,

alas, my lass,

we've painted the other

in opposite shades 

of our own delights 

that have long been spent

on the cost the ego prices,

one of us should say it,

our brains say it over and over, 

even our dulled, pitiful brains,

we can only tumble over what's over,

and it's over SLS 020517

Autumn begins its dance,

as branches embrace,

sliding against vinyl and panes,

the waning moon, a shawl,

for limbs and wind,

inside,

shadows upon the wall tell the story