Honestly, I'm a Liar, & Other Balances & Imbalances

June 17, 2011


There’s this effing coughing guy.

Coughing his damn fool sick muccoused  head.

He’s right behind me.

I’d bet half the health insurance check I’ll need

He’ll reject  deflecting all that sick  and

No manners to lift up that handy hefty hand.

He keeps coughing, this jerk,

&  me with three hours  of work

&  then I’m free,  or start to be.

When I reach my  muy  private beach…

Known for its   internal tune up  sun

 Its eternal straightline horizon


Three hours and It’s a Go

Leave this stress that  god I know

This thing with cough  just threatens  “No”

June 4, 2011


Filed under: poetry, prose — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 8:08 am

Sweeter than the precious tiny

Melodic Asian lilt,

That  child-waitress,

Specific  question  still

Asked periodically at our table,

(she has

 cool bangs & hornrimmed glasses)

&   “Hot tea?”

She surely should be in school

But she’s all the family business has

To talk to the customers

In their native language.

“Hot  tea?”  Forever memorable.

Sweeter than that

When you  thankfully  then

Lean closer again

In yr. achingly fetching


(yr. bangs  cooler)

I watch yr. lips  & hear

“Tea,  Dear?”

June 1, 2011

Double Agent

Filed under: fragments, poetry, prose — Tags: , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 8:42 pm

Here’s  far from hardly  a chink in his ardor

His duplicitness

Is more than obvious

To himself  most of all

A double agent  deepbreathing quiet

So dominoes don’t fall.