Chinese buffet

Under the threat of a double chin
And a new wardrobe
He negotiates the buffet like a fickle lover
An angel in his head
A devil in his belly
Demons rising up curvily  through his nostrils
He balances upon a tightrope all the  way to a pirate ship
And walks the plank spilling bits of sesame chicken and little white grains of rice over into the brine
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famine

I wrote when I was hungry

It was different than a famished visit to the grocery store

More demanding

More draining

To fill the basket of my mind

To ponder the madness of grocery store shopping hunger

To brace against the vibrations generated from the desperate voice of the hypocrite calling out—from the pit of my stomach

I wrote when I was hungry

Something familiar

Something familiar
Strikes a pose on some mountain peak of your mind
With a walking stick in one hand and your senses in the other
If you could only read his lips
Through his frozen beard

He leaves you
        brilliant
        and sparkling
     Hopeful as the crisp air that ushers in                          the harvest
He leaves you all that you needed
Your storehouse of memories unscathed

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Dew and do

Every morning all things are new things
Under the sun
And all the knots
Have come undone

Every night all things are old things
Under the moon
And all the flags
Fall down too soon

But in the twilights and breaking of days
There are no steadfast rules
Shadows and tides rise and fall
While dukes and princes drool

Fortunes of sleep
Piled golden in our eyes
Dreamers and makers -Shaking hands
Their warm breath clouds in lies

In between
Where all things seem
And nothing comes to die

In between
The die is cast
Beneath the burning skies
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