On behalf of those throats

On behalf of those throats

with voices

aimed at ears

too full

to receive

anymore news.


the spaces left amid the lines

and print

is there.

Let fall those songs;

overlap these stanzas

Let these movements

twirl and twist

and cross fingers

for next time.

* * *

Adults need imaginary friends too.

Nights passed

on pillows

with or without

a mate

are still and long

in December.


But another’s perspective

can whisk

dreams and reality


to stiff peaks

for the climb.

* * *

Nutmeg flecks in béchamel

As ants cross the sand-

utilitarian laborers

and jarheads


putting in a hidden


for a queen.

Skin speckled,

cinnamon on cappuccino foam.

Hopes and reality

are not

as childhood plaits


Pulled and peeled


penny candy


The knock-kneed girl

is gone.

* * *


turned from moments

to nearly a decade.

The intricacy of the shoelaces

never loosened


and never bound

anything but the tongue.

* * *


Two braided kids

on schoolyard concrete

with but a chainlink fence

as a third hand

to hold

the Double-Dutch rope.


as breath gets heavy

in the jumper’s chest.

Singing all those skipping songs

while the cord whistled

past ears

and ponytails sway

and cornrows

become frizzy

with sweat.

* * *

Out to sea-

crest above the ship

rivers mingle to ocean




till puddles form.

But can’t drown here

where the whisky’s

not neat.

* * *

Raisins, peanuts,

assorted seeds


filberts and the rare macadamia,

granola too

fishing for chocolate

as the trail gets longer

behind than in front.

Trees turn forest

eclipsing light,


and the endgame.

* * *

Never meant to crease your pages-

leave no mark

on the dark green hill-

no dog ears

in life,

as space and time mingle

to separate

mate from mate


all those co-occurrences

that aren’t ‘posed

to happen

as talkers talk.



so trains


right at each other

Splinters, metal, moneyed-passengers,

conductor and caboose


Well, now it seems

they’ll all be going to the same place

As even God likes

his potatoes with corn,

gravy, cheese

and meaty bits.

* * *

Pigeon-toed boy

hoping to knock down threes

-lay down the assist.

The folding chairs



weaving on a loom

a silk

orange scarf

in the hands.

Then comes the hero,

with thoughts of the net

and an elongated


sign of infinity

to wrap around.

No points for this endeavor

so when

it’s time to begin

and trips,

instead of getting up

stays down –

decides to see what’s there

in that grain

in the shellac

among the legs –

why there’s millions of bucks

in the sky

and new shoe deals.

* * *

Null accents

from moving around / living

with all those kids

(some of which struck a nerve

not a good one).

Down and across

melt in crosswords

and mean nothing

removed from the clues.

Japanese number puzzles

place Arab numerals

one to nine

in disarray.

And every once in awhile

letters clog the brain


it’s forgotten that with fractions

you cross-multiply.

* * *

Never take water for granted

nor anything else


air or the second person

(becoming third).

Imagine the sea off Southern Spain

centuries ago.

Ostrogoths, Vandals, Moors,

Castillian, Basque,

the Church,


The Latin vulgar

and Arabic

a chanting wine song,

Koranic verse

and our nuniya.


in a verbal form,

a lengthy poem,


Lost individuals

wrapped up in the grammar

of the captors-

it was worth it,

then swept up in fits

of a larger identity

all the dust

collected in handled pans

Mixed –


for always,

the tongue

the accent

the stanzas,

the prisons,

the questions

not destined

for answers.



The power and ownership


and all that remains

is ‘nos.’

* * *

There is no coincidence

as the fly finds itself

in the spider’s web.

It was just an intersection

of persistence

and curiosity.

* * *

Twisting and twisting




on double-helix.

All that happenstance

was DNA

and thousands of switchbacks

up the slope.

And even more so,

it was

the mingling of laughs

as one audience

with the greatest joke.

So, some came from the sea

and some stayed right there

And the cat stayed asleep

over the Chinese sky

as twelve others assembled

the zodiac.

Now, he’s just a another soul

staring at the door

of a restaurant.

* * *

Don’t think for a second

it was only

the Portuguese who had navigators,

All those maps

with carefully

placed X’s

and coastlines

a few miles off

read by cross-eyed sailors

and sent up

to the crow’s nest

as sails and oars

were adjusted

under the supervision

of the cartography

and calligraphy

of so many sources

near and far.

* * *

Straight lines

pierce the O’s

of tic-tac-toe

which would be no game

minus the crosses.

* * *

Scurrying country chipmunks

Don’t dance with city squirrels

that’s probably just because

they like different pop songs

and neither likes a liar.

* * *

Just then,

the puppy  had a change of mind

turned back the circle

but for all the eddies,

dust devils,

and cyclone

he ain’t never gonna

get that tail.

* * *

Divisible by 4

and then by 2

now it’s prime.

It’s even

so even

skaters trace its figure.

Endless flat

or raised to Mobius




the path

it’s basic string theory

with one twist

and then that’s

when serendipity comes.



Pacing Thoughts

Pacing thoughts.
slowed to
speed and competition
of race
have been reduced.
the Brickyard is one hardwood floor
cut into bedroom (unused),
‘living’ room, kitchen, bathroom-
(w)here thoughts slow themselves
enough to be seen
number read on the side
before spoiler
passes by
on left turn loop.