i prefer the older ones

your chest swells and collapses in slow motion
i miss watching the hairs curled up tight in salt and pepper rosettes
you didn’t love me i was too young but on cold lonely nights you couldn’t stay away from my womanly thighs
i drank alone on the floor cursing the day i was born then when the sun took her post
i walked through my door having to face the world again

dear postcard

i am here on Hope street in a liquor store its open because its essential outside is a sickness it’s been here all of my life remember when i was young and fearless and unattached now i’ve fallen in love with life and have everything to lose my priorities have changed so bloody much i ran myself into the ground now i’m dying to break free dear postcard with the ultra blue ocean pearly shore electric green palm trees and skinny bikini girl with exaggerated tits remember when i was young and my freedom was a tether to a wild wild road now reluctantly i am here masked ten miles from my home gloved lying to the cashier about needing sanitizer and candy bars fiji water and a box of cheap cigars for my diabetic neighbor the sickness deep in my blood hypnotically stares at the bottles in the case here at the crossroads again postcard i write on you a note for help living one day at a time has become a slippery hell

le dive bar

neon beer signs
fire door mural cop

harassing drunk patron junk filled basement
last heyday in 1950s
cheap luncheon bar feed
John Fante tattoo
don’t eat the nachos
jukebox no one can hear
two whores boxing
wino pissing
across the street
one shoe on the other
hanging from the wire
that brought the city down
they work on instinct
they are all prison taught
he whispered candy ass freaks
tell me to suck their dick
just for walking on their street
chasms blur all out
the kingdom gone
the will be fickle
find the beauty
of the bones
encased in jaundiced laughter

roman candle

snow fire light thunder the hummingbird speaks

the peacocks have been here for all time just their beauty royal blue tears

heart desires stretching reaching for infinite nothing it seems

i stare the moon frowns at me a spotlight on my shame most gracious lady my eyes downturn

pain and mystery are beautiful holy at times demonic only at someone else’s pleasure

if He wept at His abandonment who then am i to complain

agonizing rainbow look me in the eyes roses die in mid December

that all of treasure’s soul lays bare the blood not on the spear this time but splattered all to see

that a twisted existence didn’t always weave and the past a few exceptions made

that leads me to this Maypole game where spirit and soul are sewn into the coat of many colors

to light the sky in flames of glory and my spark to soar on angels’ arms

for Hunter S