silently conspire certain secrets stay covered / four blocks over, three meters down


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most tragedy starts with hubris /

others merely unfurl /

some wisdom bears repeating: /

there ain’t no new world.

he done a lot of good, /
but that ain’t all he done /
whatever sin /
lays implicit /
will come out later on

send flowers to my mother, /
pace tireless patterns cross heart pine floor /
wake up in my clothes agin’, /
you won’t see me anymore /

a youth lost to obsession, /
dodged death w privilege ‘n luck /
Saint Rita’s bells /
on the broken breeze /
i think i’ve had enough.

at last, not the man i was before
malignant shadow beyond the door
it’s never just the one damn dream
it’s always three or four