Valli in the Clouds

If I lose my momentum in the washed out weekdays

It's because I'm the victim of a mawkish disease

Reliving the heavily dramatized anguish

When the sour notes came out unbearably loud

And thinking about my Valli in the clouds

I'm slowly dissolving in burgundy laughter

When it gushed out freely like songs from a choir

And banished all requiems to faraway cloisters

But was crushed by the heavy hand of a scholar

And now that the voices are no longer endowed,

I'm thinking about my Valli in the clouds

I'm not giving in to this overwrought dolor

Or the growing allure of these destitute sheets

I face each day in preposterous armor

And flourish my sword with balletic feet

But no matter how much I make myself proud,

I can't get around my Valli in the clouds.
   

Tommy's Poem

tommy the tech leaves for work in a hurry

looking prep school gothic and not too happy

a zookeeper making his way to the zoo

to stop wild animals from flinging their poo

he comes back to the house and does laundry in a flurry

then it’s time to isolate and whip up some stir fry

or curry, something incredibly spicy

and some days he goes to a bungalow of dreams

then inevitably back to the rehab again

he lives halfway between solace and sin

i wonder what mysteries lay hidden in the seams

i remember one morning in negative nine

when he trained his guitar strings to wistfully laugh

he sang me a story as he nurtured their spines

and the string on my heart almost broke in half

and tommy’s recovery is as tight as his pants

and free as his wisdom, and true as his doubt

he rarely pontificates when taking a stance

and tommy’s heart breaks when a brother goes out

but that doesn’t make him some crucified martyr

the tough kind of love is usually smarter

and tommy is brilliant when it comes to surrender

and one of this brotherhood's most valiant defenders

The Bloodbath

            When the seeds of sibilance find earth in your stomach,

            And stocks in fallow economies plummet;

            A party of militants put their weight on your chest,

            And the fleet-footed seraphim have all acquiesced;

            If the poison leaks in through a vulnerable vein,

            And finds its way into that beautiful brain,

            I’ll bleed the Mississippi red,

            So you can jump in and soak your head.

            If it’s time to get clean I’m a river of green,

            Expelling the sorrows of your lackluster dream,

            Letting them out into the great unseen;

            Eroding the terror of your paralyzed screams

            And the ruination of your true-hearted schemes

            So that somebody somewhere could find some relief

            In the comical nature of your self-imposed grief

            And deltas could form among desolate streets

            In the visceral spaces where nobodies meet.

The Best Salesman On Earth

         He knew they wouldn’t want to be publicly embarrassed
         After he sold them a tower in Paris
         They desperately needed to have waterworks installed
         And he casually sold them Niagara Falls
         With the infinite grace of one destined from birth
         To be the best salesman on earth

         He appeared in commercials knowing just how they yearned
         To wage war on obesity and crucify heartburn
         And needed their curiosities piqued
         While reality television was voting off the weak
         That their hunger for something exhilarating and free
         Could be sated with cold beer and pizza delivery
         Thanks to the best salesman on earth,
         They could just stay home and take on girth

         He scurried away to his palatial retreat
         And the servants who waited to anoint his feet
         And while regular people were taking for granted
         He was slowly but surely acquiring this planet
         That’s how much his hide was worth,

         As the best salesman on earth.