word after word, sound chasing sound
these utterances climbing growing shying
at the bare-boned thought of emptiness
so obsessed these words with resurrecting
flesh that should in frigid earth entombèd
lie and yet deny such morose musings

no, they seem to say, we are much more
more than this and more than simple you
in silly dewy desires of flesh on eager flesh
lithe and fulsome flowing sensual streams
of dreams of me and you and me and you
and still no end in sight to this fine fantasy

they twist and turn and beguile beggar me
bounding grunting from bed to sweaty bed
they insist and implore and clamor yet
for more, these untoward titans of mine
reaching for an Olympian summit beyond
anything this mortal man could imagine

I gird them about my feeble frame, a sultan
of the Cage who has too long dithered
at delightful maidens and succulent feasts
while cowering at the fall of metalled feet
approaching in stealth and deathly mien
to steal my life for but a word, a sound

I clawing cling to them in ever fitful slumber
like Endymion watchful to the last for her
his lunar bride, be not far from me, beloved
heed these words, these sounds I gaping gift
unto you sweet temptress of brittle being
of distant seeing, of most delicious words

Salt Lake City 04 May 2012


I have been told–however undeserving–that my voice is pleasant to listen to. By which I think was meant that people fall asleep when they hear me speak. Which may be why I prefer writing. So if you are having trouble sleeping one night, this link will take you to a folder of me reciting my poetry. … Pleasant dreams.

reciting “words”