Stood atop a heap of hybrid dung
declaring victory mine alone
with a parable & a chord to strum

A lucky streak – unbroken thread
following as a rule of thumb
with thoughts as cloudy as an evening sky
drifting on a summer’s breeze
thoroughly confused as I can be
snugly sandwiched between life & death

A sense of mystery on the decline
questioning the Fates:
Whose child am I?

Alphabetically Spoken For

I hold the A-B-C’’s of love firmly in my grip
… and in my heart of hearts …
You, Dear, were the kindest man I’d ever known
… and accepted the real me readily …
I asked you for your hand in friendship
… and you gave me that & so much more …
Mathematically, we’re a balanced equation
… geometrically attached at all the right angles …

Cut Loose from the Hangman’s Noose

Mesmerized & stupefied
all in one lone lovely breath,
hanging on one solitary thread
dangling beads of remembrance

In dire states beyond distrust
in a world sprung from a foundation of hate
a body of indigestible evidence
suggesting there’s been foul play

One tiny speck of cosmic dust
shaking a fist at the big galoot
messing with my merry mind,
a cut-out character from an earlier time,
cross-checking my facts
to be free at long last

A False Start to a Dead End

Put the transmission in park
Look into the surrounding dark

You left an indelible mark on my heart
Worlds apart from the start

You hadn’t the balls to make the right call
to save you from misery, certain to fall

You must’ve thought you could have it all
but, just maybe, the devil holds the winning ticket
to your final demise, no longer a rising star
in the dead of night, with a ticking clock on the wall