Traffic Report

tail lights skidding across a flat black sky
on through the night, paired red hots fly
lacquered nails rake through raven hair
tears of blood stain a face so fair

one headlight, the Cyclops goes home
a piercing sword of justice, the mortician's comb
bright beam of mercy stirs gentle winds of fate
It winks and is gone through the pearly gate

across the crinkled pavement bald tires turn
burning up memories in this windshield urn
Sunday, Bloody Sunday a soundtrack for this ride
RPMs a little faster, it’s always time to hide

“Those in Love at Risk for Broken Heart”
listen to my science, ignore the art
lane markers count circadian beat
tired eyes peering through a foggy sheet

Excerpted from e-mail...

A teammate of my sister, who lives in Mongolia, recently died tragiclly of an undiagnosed leukemia condition. He was 25. Below is an excerpt from an e-mail I sent my sister.

I have read with a few tears the updates mom forwards me. It is odd how the simple and ordinary life of someone you have never met can feast on your heart. Pardon a moment of selfishness, but a part of me wishes I was there to see and watch these events unfold. I don't mean this in an insensitive way at all, but it is a remarkable thing of which to play a part.

It makes the touch of death real, and the hope of real life not such a dream. Living here trains one to think "I am immortal", and death is merely a fairy tale told to keep people from smoking. But in the midst of perpetual youth and a seeming eternity of tangible acquisition, no one knows what life is. I think if we all had an opportunity to dig a few more frozen graves for youth who were full of life and love, we would see that the reality of life is intangible.

Sound track for a tweezers advertisement

Garth Brooks - Against the Grain

View Point Up Ahead

take your eyes,
crystal orbs of quicksilver starlight,
magic starbright,
grant me one wish tonight.
i promise it won’t hurt too much
to tear out a tiny piece of you for me to see.

give me your eyes,
to wash away my insecurities,
tragic impurities,
bumpy inconsistencies.
be the cold water from my garden hose
after a day at the beach.

i’ll hold your eyes
up to the crisp new day,
light like fresh water, ocean spray
dissolving the thoughts that weigh
around my neck
like millstones.

take my eyes,
see you as I see you,
k2 view,
through a morning drop of dew.
framing your smile
in a picture frame of sunrise shadows.

I can't believe I am actually going to post this... however, here for your brutal blows and bruises is a poem about love. It's more then vaguely sweet in that sickening way 3rd graders write poetry. It is from this week's poetry assignment to write an Ode, which is nothing more then a poem focused on the exaltation of some theme, whether that be a person, object or idea. It's painfully cliched and hopelessly narrow in focus, but I kind of like it. I'll dedicate it to T & K, becausely they are so hopelessly in love the would probably enjoy this piece of cow drivle.

Ode to True Love

More then dimpled smiles and quiet sprinkle kisses,
No mere happenstance winks and near misses,
Love is no twist of fate but an architect’s blue print,
A not-always-perfect creation of functional beauty,
Momentary cruelty,
God and man sworn duty
To another and no other.

Love is no tossing of timid paper hopes to wind
With crossed fingers and cynical good lucks.
It’s every hug always and forever,
Cross my heart,
Til death do us part.

Love is what says “stay” when feelings fade
When there is no happy masquerade
And all that’s left is you and me.
And we will always be
Getting a bit better.

More then suspect handshakes
Contracts signed, sealed, delivered,
But best friends
With dividends
No need to make amends.

Compromise is my new four-letter word,
So fast and easy, no rough and ready.
A hellish little flow chart of right and wrong
With shifting little boxes and lines that don't stay put.
What did Eve say underneath the apple tree?
"It is good so it must be right."