Discounted Poetry

There's a rawness On the back side Of his foot. Another cinnamon sunset. The heat fumes ripple the horizon rust Like parachutes in the hands of children playing, Like fitted sheets about to be stretched tight Around the rumpled mattress. The label's peeling from his chilly IPA. Too many evenings He discovers himself here, The beer an introduction To the night Before the rye finds him And puts him sloppily to bed. The gas is over five a gallon, So he's taken to walking himself Across the oven walks and blistered streets To places she has never been. His boots are wearing a bit into his heel. He can forget it most of the time, But some nights, the open ache's impossible To ignore. She preferred wine bars She glided on Prosecco. - 4/29/26

When you heard She stole my Evening, Did I sense A faintness Palpable? A slightest Movement, Hand run down The table, I'd throw a rock And shatter Every red light In this damnable town. - 4/28/26

The turn, The twist, It's all within the wrist. Did you catalogue desires Ordered alphabetically by names And oral preferences? The mystery of mechanisms Declines with time. Does every entry finally Caress the same? When everything is codified As organized results, The magic dissipates Into the cool yet blinding clarity Of science, A kiss, Performance. Passion proves A misremembered myth, A legend lost to youth And bona fide fools Ignorant to life In adult reality. - 4/27/26

In the urban river overwhelming, Fluid faces through the pavement Rushing to the seas, She's beautifully distinct. You start to wade And catch her humid eyes. You realize it’s her Again. The end is never changing. She is rushing ecstasy, Orgasmic lightness. She's not her In spirit or in flesh, Although you'll always crave, An addict who can't swallow this Without the world Expiring in hazy half-time. Not a single taste. The word Is never knotted, But seldom what you wish. Amen. Continue on the starving waves, Hollow on your hungry way. - 4/24/26

The cost of her prior mistake, The smidge of frosting On another birthday cake, The ants in rows advancing... Morsels Of her life That rise and drop On top the tides, The currents ever flowing Slowly down. Some days While driving home She fantasizes Oven air with Him against her mouth, The house and family impossible, A twitching jerk that sends the car Into the concrete wall Beneath the bridge That's always under repair. - 4/23/26

My father Sat me on the fading vinyl-covered stool His grandfather sat him upon And placed the order exactly the same As then, Lime sherbet, The impermanence of objects  - Like a vector hallway -  Only outlines green Yet possibly sweet. Her grin entices, Tempting, Promising nothing But a moment's sugar tang On top the tongue. The seat beside me At the soda fountain countertop Is always empty. - 4/22/26