El Viejo

El Viejo

My teeth sleep in a water glass,
my hair is falling out.
I have an everlasting hemorrhoid,
the shingles and the gout.

The Appalachian

The Appalachian

Child of the mountains, child of the hills. Child of the mist, the rocks, and the rills. Take me back home, in the highlands to be. To bide in the wildwood, that knows not the sea.

ET Go Home!

ET Go Home!

Beneath the bright unearthly strobe, here comes ET, and he’s got a probe. He hasn’t come to make war. Hasn’t come to kill or invade us. He hasn’t come to make peace. Hasn’t come to help or to aid us. The reason he’s near seems perfectly clear. He’s searching for life on Uranus.

Forgiveness

Forgiveness

They cried, “You’re covered with scars!”
“You poor pitiful thing!”
“What heartache, and misery,
the memories must bring.”

Opus

Opus

The butterfly his opus writes,
on breezes passing by.
Yet as he writes he does forget,
the how, the when, and why.