pages of vanity

this is
a very quiet moment
too quiet.

is this the place

people spend most of their lives,
chipping away at their own flesh
melting back into the mulch,
the soil the sand the water

this moment took me aback
its echo frightened me
like seeing your face unexpectedly
and not recognizing it
as your own.

this self chatter continues.

in the search for outer stimulus
it seems that we are driven deeper inside
when the world of reflection
does not equal the world of projection

need we speak of wishes again?
of whispers, promises
only the lone voice ringing in the head
over again like a pulse,
like thought-blood

will I always be like this?

with only non blinking walls in response.


very sad that, but sad and still
like the black and white photo
of the long dead war boys
not big enough for their helmets


let’s work through this together.
work through the dead ring of power lines
and the rhythm of the swamp cooler
from my slumbering neighbors apartment

even he\
with his cheap perfume
(he may be gay)
his large Dutch mustache
and his grey t-shirt
with the shiny Iron-on that billboards
LAS VEGAS in soft curvaceous print,

even he has someone within his grasp
someone to look at him
while he looks at his TV from his lazy boy.

my other neighbor,
called me Josh
until I corrected her
but even Josh was endearing.
even Josh will do.

this is Arizona in the summer.
It’s 3 am and I am sweating around my neck.
My arm itches from the scratch
my friend’s puppies left
who haven’t yet learned how to control love

I live on fast food and beer
and books and minutes
embarrassed by my exterior,
my inner world is becoming more and more buffered

It’s breezy outside
I’d like to take a walk
but would most likely get arrested
or molested or both.

ah – just now a lovely urban duet
police siren and helicopter at the same time
I need not complete the image for most of us.

there are places I would like to go
but I don’t know how



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