Month: January 2016


I used to write,
I mean I touched pen
to paper
and crafted the words
with fingers
darkened by ink.
These days
it is through glass
and without fibers..
without the bond
of hand to work.
My thoughts are measured
and the impulse dampened
by this.
It is not all bad , though.
Everything I write
feels worthy
because I weigh it
so much
before it takes form.
But I miss the rush
of running through a theme
until it is exhausted
and ragged….
Many sheets
but seeds,
for the next inspiration.
I must get back,
in some small form,
to paper.


it seems,
is just a collection
of shared idiosyncrasies…
otherwise odd behaviors
shared by many,
aren’t worth questioning.
Scratch your balls
on this side of the street
and you’re a beast…
cross the road,
and public scrotum tinkering
is an art-form
all its own.
Here, a letch;
there, a mensch.
So take heart, assholes;
somewhere you’re revered.