transubstantiation…

the words
of
the poet
become
more
than
vague
mental images
they
are
laughter
clearly heard
resonating
against
the walls
of life’s prison
they
are also
a lover’s touch
a salty tear
shed
with death’s
arrival
or
flesh
burning with passion
or
the scent
of fear
on a dark night
the smell
of
decaying bodies
on
the battlefield
or
children
crying
in the corner
of
an empty room
the flow
of
warm blood
from
a wrist
opened
to let
the evil out
lines
of words
and
carefully counted
syllables
rhymed
and
unrhymed
like
life

homecoming…

bapa dola said
after years
of pursuing
wealth
and
fame
an old man
returned
to his childhood village
to
boast
of his accomplishments
only
to find it empty
all the huts
were
in shambles
the statue
of his protector
was but dust
and
tarnished metal
nothing was there
but
memories
and
so it is
with
all
seeking the past
he said

spotting satan’s smile…

flexing
the muscles
at
the sides
of
his mouth
he demonstrated
an
overt
display
of emotion
and
said
that’s perfectly delicious
how
the flavors
blend
into
one
perfectly harmonized
deadly
poison
of
hate
it’s quite surprising
how
just
the right touch
of
ignorance
when
blended
with personalized fears
and
self-interests
can result
in
a devil’s brew
with
an angelic fragrance
of
patriotism

​ dining out in america now…

fried rabbit
and
possum stew
is all
the white house
gonna
offer
you
while they
dine
on corn-fed
beef
and
funny
little
fish eggs
from
russia
with love
now
don’t get
me wrong
as i
sing
my song
but
it
seems
to me
we’ve been
served
a wicca’s 
social brew

the clown’s lesson to the politician…

removing his makeup
the clown’s
aging flesh
was
revealed
the jaundice
from
deceit
was no longer
beneath
the layers
of
society’s nativity
he spoke
to his colleague
the politician
in clear
but
whispered tones
as
the stench
of
rotting promises
filled the room
with each breath
exhaled
he
said
always
offer them
a good
show
one worth
the price
of
admission
and
i tell you this
they
will never notice
your sleight of hand
as
you remove
their
freedoms