Old Tyke Blues

I woke up this morning -

found my leg was dead.

Slipped as I got up

and banged my head,

fingers to temple

came away red,

trail on the carpet

where I had bled.

Went down for breakfast -

the milk had gone sour,

turned on the toaster -

a distinct lack of power.

Go back upstairs,

stand under the shower -

water is...

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SNOWBLIND

Like a pristine field of snow

you glare back at me and I know

that even with the greatest will

I’ll never get the words to spill

upon your virgin gown.

I want to smudge the ashes of my dreams

upon your frigid, frozen streams

that when the summer sun’s aglow

lap gently with a lazy flow

caressing inspiration from my brow.

My ...

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