Listening to the Thunder in the snow

  Got to hear it thunder
 last night in the snow,
 Nothing like the wild, 
raw power of a tropical
deluge along the southern coast,
It was more like a Mother slapping
the back of the head 
of a  misbehaving child.
Wake up pay attention

The Final Cut

The bunker is quiet,
Dear leader talks
of himself in the third person.
Only the echoes respond

F**KING CANCER

Its Gods will

 I envy the faithful
who believe in a divine 
Conspiracy theory,
that explains 
the Cancer sweeping my Family
away.

Internet spirits

Internet spirits

I keep e-mail addresses

of friends and family

who have died

Just in case they reach

out and want a quick response.

Their Facebook pages

are like tombstones,

I visit to pay my respects.

I’ve got ghosts in my machine.

I'm not Grizzly Adams

I'm not Grizzly Adams

Mowing the lawn A rabbit charges
from the Lilac bush
and I almost have a heart Attack
I'm not Grizzly Adams.

Overboard

Overboard

My wife and Daughter

are my anchor and lifeboat,

In stormy seas.

When I despair

And think about sinking

below the dark water

They pull me back

out of the darkness,

into the light

Dreams about another life

A dream 

I’m in a dust bowl era revival tent

Filled with Okies , Negroes and reservation Indians

There's an Indian preacher named six spurs

on a stage stirring up the crowd.

He Carried six spurs,

Each spur told a story Of pain and redemption

On the road to salvation

Every time he raised a spur the crowd chants

“Hallelujah! “

an old Ute in a feather-adorned cowboy hat

shares a pint of snake oil with me, telling me about

being forced off his land for not following the white man's god.

Outside in the dirt parking lot

Laughing kids take turns laying

in a coffin and staring up at the stars.

Flashbacks

Ashes

My car died on the interstate

Between work and home.

Old rancher in an old pickup

Stops and gives me a ride.

Ashtray brimming over with

Cigarette butts, and Rainier cans

rolling around the floor.

The cab was a smoke preserved museum.

A smell which is strangely comforting.

a flashback to trips,

In the family station wagon

( Griswold ).

Mom and Dad chain smoking

In the front.

In the middle my siblings

seat belt free playing twenty questions.

I always hid in the far back

suitcases my fortress,

a book my sword.

The family was whole

and we kids felt Immortal.