Three Poems


He's got a bullet
and a trench coat, some
figure from a pulp novel
cover, masquerading
as a real person

I expect the world around
him to go a pale shade
of grey, shadows here
and there, and a glowing
lady of cinemas to dip
low in his arms

but all he does is order
a bagel.



I have been made
and fashioned out of old
drapes and spit and polish,

out of daddy's booth leather
and the stuff at the bottom
of whiskey glasses after a
long evening

I have been made from the
matter on the bottom of boots
mingled with the substance
of heaven

I have been made.


Infused with herbs of nature
and filling the mouth with sour

Mingles with the sweet, the over
powering, to water the soul
and create a new flavor.


Richmond, VA