Discounted Poetry

The bleached and dusty miles Beige, yellow stretched thin As cotton over stubbled cheeks. The ditches on the roadside Interrupted by scattered trails of gravel, Shortened lines of dying trees Overburdened by overripened fruit. My friends are chasing echoes. I've lived enough To tire of types. I clutch a fading faith That's only mine. Flirty flame. Dirty grey. Your long hair Middle night, Your eyes A pool of coffee Freshly brewed. God damn, I married long before You bore a name. Only a gram or two, Not much. - 8/29/25

She unclasps The catch suspending Heart above Disquieted deep stomach. Vibrant violence on the street, A syren spell. I listen, Long to jump the window, Riot. Cotton water Pool about my thighs, A glory hatched Prying loose  The pinkest sea shells. - 8/28/25

The young adults are back. The bags and packs Are swinging in the crossings. Youth is spraying lithely From the final summer sprinklers Over sunny rented lawns. My evening commute Is longer, Lively Sitting at the light, Watching all the college students Sliding by. The heat has eased. The other cars are bleary, ugly, Obstacles between my feet and couch. A silly boy and girl are kissing in the street Beneath my yellow traffic signal. "Get out the middle of the road!" I grouch, although nobody can hear Sitting at the light, Watching all my coiled seconds Springing high. I recently discovered The uncaged joys of riding in the early winter With my window rolled low. The children caper happily across, Blessed and blissfully clueless To sandpaper age. My vehicle is at the red. My mind is wondering, Uncertain how to fill my newly empty days, Sitting at the light, Watching all my precious decades Slowly die. - 8/27/25

If you can whirl your eyes A frantic circle, You will lose the ghostly blur And simply see the blades Of the ceiling fan. The arguments, Anxieties about the bills, Bloodless commitments you cannot recall creating, Maybe never really made, Excitement your pride is pushing off, The years of warmth behind A moment of forgiveness, Of release, It's all unseen At twenty steps away. We erupt, Explosions into history. Furiously vaporizing space And then, we're gone. Goodbye. Sit down And somehow let the fans all run To quietness. What do you want Before you die, Before you die so soon from now? - 8/26/25

The lengthy, heavy Roots entangle feet And send us to The humid earth, Your breath Inside my  Open mouth, My naked chest Now plastered  To your sweat. The serpents Hiss and drop Headlong from limbs. The punctures Drain us off. - 8/25/25

Your body Fit, Your curved skin Mirroring. You could have wrapped it up In butcher's paper, Taken the package home Beneath your arm. Ours. I know I visit you At night At times. I wonder If the stolen hours After pillows And before alarms Mirror mine. - 8/22/25

You work The wood Until Your reach The air, The pulse, The tender skin you know is there Before it's there Inside the splintered gore. You shape  The core From dull and ugly grain To lively supple Limb, A vibrant hand, Particular beak, Some rippled fur, Your yesterday In shavings round your feet, Tomorrow chiseled out again  From inarticulate Dead tree. - 8/21/25

Clouds Are medicine Now fizzling Underneath my nose Like running soda water Tickling. I'm holding back a sneeze. I breathed the branches, Buildings, hedges, and the leaves Until I lost the glistening air Unfolding through the ever-stretching skies, Unrolling furry blue Bespeckled with the patches Of Elmer's glue in boldest puffiness. I shoved my head above And left polluting calculation underneath, Inhaling warm adrenaline and passionate Planets in orbit, In the gravity Of unwavering love. - 8/20/25

Your eyes were swaying jewels Barely underwater. You had to go. You were never cruel. You just did horrid things to me. You drove the car as I stood in the ocean, Never saying. Broken hearts Like broken bones, Just set and leave them. - 8/19/25

My friends all say To toss it off the bridge. My closest mate pulls me aside, Admits I'm being a fool. My therapist dictates A cooling psychic shower. Wash the last few months Away.  Forget. I burnt some pictures To reclaim my power, Manifested moving on To other states And casting wider nets Into the stagnant dating pool. I yank the tablecloth, Restart the phone. Selected all Received and sent And hit delete, And still My chest Is deeply Breathing Your lingering Scent. - 8/18/25

Her body tremors, Shoreline after the tsunami Batters and retreats. The sun's a general. The moon's a specialist, Although in what She will not tell. The world is lemon stripes Ejected through the blinds, A treasure gold That glows across her alabaster White, Streetlight or noon. Her beaded belly inflates And settles, A retreating tide, Balloon ascended high Returning, Depleting intoxicating helium Behind. - 8/15/25

We ran the reds. The clouds still trampled over us. We're underneath The hum, The crackling noontide tune. We stay away, Although we know The day is coming soon. Free samples cost too much. You know much better Than to skim Your eyes across my arms. We're not that fast. I hear alarms behind us Even now. Your fragrant face Is touching far too near. Your lips are grasping Over mine. - 8/14/25

Fourteen days. Blueberry bushes Tempt through Waves of sparkling Wind. Some vices Thrill much stronger In anticipation. I have tasted these Dew-dripping bulging moons And know they burst With flavor greater Than excitement While waiting. Your handwritten Letter Swears you Will return Soon So soon. - 8/13/25

You bake my chest Against your fevered back. My arms surround you, Fingers bowed in worship Around your radiating navel. Your skin is heavy cream And melted butter Nearly at a simmer. Your cough awakes me. I yawn aroused Into your lower neck And snack upon your shoulder And drowse again, Unsure if you’re the world at dawn Or you’re the dream.   - 2/3/24 (I’m home sick today, so you’re getting an older one about being with somebody sick…) 

Red is seeping over the city's corpse. Somebody slashed the throat of the sky again, Despising the beauty of the stars. I really need to buy some heavy curtains. I am holding my pillow Like I have the last few weeks. It doesn't touch me back Or sigh good morning, Dead before the dawn awoke me, Once it no longer wore your eyes. The early tide of highway cars Engulfed and bore you Lifeless to the ocean deeps. - 8/11/25

We were caught beneath the sheets of storm, Not ones of cotton. You whispered how you shouldn't As you do Before you do. A year or two is not so long, Although the world will likely spin And move And fall into an oily ruin. There's somebody who will always build again. A cherry cola In a battered dripping car Under yellow spills of light Eternally will set the world to rights. - 8/8/25

The sudden snowy light, The smearing details, Psychedelic spotty black. She layered lipstick thickly, Opened her hard-shell suitcase, And put forever on the bed With pricing in my view. She spoke between her frantic kisses. Yes, I know to pass. I never do. I paid her everything. Affairs can drain To greying everyday And lawns that call for constant mowing, Or they snap And fall below, Dissolved to instant darkness, Heroin hungering. - 8/7/25

The bag of certain charms is heavier inside the rain. The rocky path is running black Into the sudden stream Downhill, encircling your way, Demanding soldiers ready to yell And marching round A seventh circuit. Lay it down. Advancing's not for you alone. It's time you're found. - 8/6/25

The music's muffled At this distance. I am staring dull Beyond the surface At the dark and squirming Shapes alive below. You shiver the clouds aside. The moon has swollen full. I'm the unsure imposter, But my silver breath has plunged into the pond. - 8/5/25

You aren't so sure, And that's okay Right here today. The water's rising, The rain will likely Take me out to sea. Nobody gets a second Shot at me. I'm floating through The indigo. If you don't know, I'll just flow down. I'm too old For wavering eternally And far too free To fret about Connections missed. You'll join the list. I'll join the sea. - 8/4/25

I am not a feathered being, But still In the evenings just before The sun went down to hide, I used to fly. The summers were the best. The cooler air caressed my arms, The neighborhoods had yet to settle, And the lower clouds surprisingly Had a flavor More like city water Than a cotton candy cone. I started learning currents of wind And drifting deep in thought. My arms grew tired. I decided taking weeks to rest Was for my good. I haven't flown in fourteen years. I've gotten old and fatter. Yes, I tried a month ago And almost broke my leg From jumping off the roof. I study my flimsy aluminum ladder And consider how I miss the sky. It wouldn't be the darkest fate To lose a limb. - 8/1/25