The Handy Carnivore

canines likes these like chances
heavy in mahogany cigar rooms
we jest better pastry chefs
just enough to allow some truth
that quaint words still take bite
routineless flirting of ends
never learned to be sneaky
as they try to pass chestnut carriers
afraid whales will get on them
in the sharp ocean where children
connect to slowly for harm’s way
become shepherds & not nice guys
forgetful warriors who learn to grin
at all this around us that ages

Story of My Life

there’s never enough numbers
in dreams, accounting or dances
we are poor so safe from squander
pass in public jamaican dayplanners
full of old boots on the ground
i was there, so it’s true
before we compete for light in the sky
rage will live with rages
to spite ten or twenty anniversaries
corks undone three thousand or so feet up
with gloved keys or factories of invention
the only plot is nurturing
by nature of my gross enabler
fabled fate for the king of mice