I do not see the kitten on the wall, twisting in the leaves of fall,
Maple seed that spins to ground, from high to low without a sound!
It’s still too hot to dream of frigid air, perhaps I’m still too young to dare?
That damned kitten, she’s still unknown; In summer’s heat I dream alone.

Some wicked man with an orange cat, is sure to laugh but not at that;
He knows the pain of softest fur, the poetry of the things that were
before a boy knew true desire, and only loved some kitten’s sire.

Tiger, Tiger, burning Keats? Nay lad there are rhymes far more complete
Let go the little deaths in prayer, away with all the pain of care
I do not see the kitten, dear. I only see the breadth of fear
measured in a broken heart, a love unknown – and still apart.

Darling, let me be creative for a moment,
let me tell you a kiss in swahili, so that you believe it
in Russian.

Darling, let me paint you for a moment
let me use colors like maybe and hopefully, so you understand
the relationship between time and space.

Darling, let me sculpt us for a moment,
let me shape us in marble and geographical maps, so that you are wary
of other men you can not place.

Darling, let me write for a moment,
let me describe the universe in mountains and stars, so you can create it
with me.

Romance is a pen without ink
that writes every word in memory
& hopes someone might see
the outline of what they prayed
when they kept on writing.
If it’s anything else, please
hold my hand. Tell me you love me
pray with me for another day
full of food and wine.
If I am right though, give me paper
I will jot all of us down and know
that you know me so well.
Our story there, un-inked
on our two hearts alone.

The silent majority told me to tell you
shut up.

So, I’m going to tell you, It’s ok,
I love you.

The silent majority told me to tell you
go away.

So I’m going to tell you, stay with me,
I love you.

The silent majority told me to tell you
they hate you.

So I’m going to tell you, it’s ok,
I love you.

In comic books there are no panties
i can tell, because all the lines
are invisible, or go BLAM
or POW
Or SNNNNKKT.

In comic books there is no sex
I can tell, so much spandex
turns everybody off. because the imagination
needs to wonder.

Two frogs leap into a murky pond
legs push water behind them
they dive toward cool mud
rest & wait for the sun to set

They’re too big for the bass to eat
too small for the raccoon.
They find safety in the middle –
a grand compromise indeed.

Days go by, and by, the sun rises
the sun sets, they eat a thousand flies

The leaves start to orange on the sides
when the raccoon smiles,
two legs hanging out.