The Move (A 36th Ave. Poem)

It took ‘til the 365th time I trekked past patrolling cops
to be told by my stranger-neighbor
that I didn’t belong-Read More »

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S.S. Sinking (Utilizing Lady Gaga’s “Paparazzi”)

Is music sex?
And is sex love?

See, I am charged; I am impassioned.
I’ve an energy, this channel.
Still, I have an age to me
you may not live to know-

I may be set ablaze, but I’m old,
at least inside my soul.

I’ve a sadness,
an emptiness,
but it isn’t that my eyes are vacant.

No, emptiness isn’t a hole; it’s a mass.
It has heaviness, and it has weight;
It has substance.
And fingernails!

It clings to the walls of my heart, just like staplesRead More »