Thursday, February 27, 2014

A Bundle Of Baby

     Flew into Vegas Tuesday night. At 8:30pm it was 68 degrees with a breeze. When I left Virginia it had just stopped snowing.   
     We had lived here for nine years so we drove up the Strip last night to see what had changed.   
     Some new casinos and condo towers. But, what caught my attention were the people.   
     I had forgotten how shit-face drunk the tourists get by sunset.   
     Staggering amongst friends and strangers, they crossed the street around us, then careened in sloppy curves, north and south, onto the snake skin sidewalks that never empty, twenty-four hours a day.   
     We left the Strip at Sahara and headed east towards Sunrise Mountain, driving towards little Elliott Robert Cheal, the two week old grandson we had come here to hold.   
          in my arms   
          a bundle of baby   
          smiling tears   


Such a need
to talk
to listen
to look 
into someone's
eyes looking

Such a need
to touch
be touched
warm breath
my neck
and yours

Such a need
slow walk
sun sets
to whisper 
to lean
planting flowers

Such a need
to laugh
to stare
in bed
you said
I said

Such a need
to quench
a thirst
I never
ever knew
I had

Such a need
a secret
short hand
in public
a parade
a similitude

such a need
such a need
such a need
such a need
such a need
such a need

such a need
such a need
such a need
such a need
to be
not alone

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

A Man Of Few Words

A man of few words   
     I repeat myself

A man of few words
     I repeat myself