Thursday, October 4, 2018

Tomato Thieves

She dug in the dirt daily
her knees perpetually swollen, red
I came on Saturdays to dig till sundown
Silent or singing
until
hands washed and wine uncorked
until
knives out chopping fruits of our labor
onions, peppers,
garlic, cilantro
and almost too few tomatoes
for our salsa
to sit and share
I begged - there must be some way
to keep the rabbits
from stealing your tomatoes,
no?
She smiled, sipped her wine and said -
If I want tomatoes Dear,
I can go to the market

Friday, September 14, 2018

gah

sometimes
i feel
like a
butterfly
on a 
very 
breezy
day

45

want
i want
more i want
wanting more

through less

less mayhem
less chaos
less paper
less vapor

from mouths
exhaling more
when silence will do
from you

san francisco nights

sometimes i reminisce
about that life in the darkness
all cigarettes and whiskey
soul yearning, screaming
from neon fire escapes
into graffiti alley valleys
lost keys and skinned knees
with smoke rings
and shoe strings
tying down dawn