Truncated

Losing way
when gaining ground
a sure-footed sacrifice
to transcendental thumb war

a match made
prescribed burn;
we both praise & fear
the fire’s licking flames

ropeless
repelling down
this one-way pyramid
in line for introverted idol

preparing
in hell’s cantina
a Sisyphean offering;
an ever truncated godhead

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Fear-Based Scenario

Mere days after Sandy Hook
and the slaughter
of 20 young angels
and 6 overseers

I’m riding on a city bus
and I can’t help but think:
What if there’s a gun-wielding
homicidal maniac aboard
getting ready to unload?

Is this my own mental blight?
Society’s?
The media’s?

What would I do
if someone suddenly stood up
on the moving bus
and started firing off shots?

Would I freeze up?
Would I duck for cover?
Would I stand up myself
and tackle attacker to the ground?
Would I become a human shield
for a woman or child seated nearby?

So many questions in this gun-show scenario
So many fears in this trigger-happy society

A bloodstained boomerang
History repeats
There is no “normal” to go back to
No, we cannot get along

Nodding off, wake up
Here’s my stop
Back door, please

Laceration

The Reason

Her touch:
narcotic for this
open-wound life

the reason
I don’t bleed to death.

Sorting Beans

Fuck it
all. Let someone
else sort the beans and fold
the sheets. Shit thy own bed and make
it, too.