Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Missed Connection – Sweaty In Union Square

You’re my missed connection –
            not once, but many times
In running shoes with bright, orange laces –
            a welcomed distraction for my mind.

Counting hours in the morning
            ‘til I might see your face –
Some savory eye candy
            in a hot ‘n’ sweaty place.

You’re my missed connection –
            not once, but many times
A mere smile and quick hello
            got me weak-kneed every time.

I had whole conversations
            sealed behind these grinning lips;
Couldn’t help but sit and wonder
            the taste of a first kiss.

You’re my missed connection –
            not once, but many times
Watching you workout –
            glad apodyopsis is not a crime.

Eyes locked and darted, dancing
            in mirrors around the room;
Body heat and pulse rising –
            enough to make me swoon.

You’re my missed connection –
            not once, but many times
I only wish I’d had the nerve
            to towel whip you from behind!



Monday, December 30, 2013

Dried Petals Of Me

Souls met and melted snow one, bleak, cold winter.
My heart still sings from words and jokes remembered.
But, oh, what Time quickly dried and blew away –
Those buds that bloomed two, blissful weeks in May.



Sunday, December 29, 2013

Dance Of the Dead

Sinking into a snare of

Spider spun cotton,

Contaminating my head,

Navigating the Dance Of the Dead

To the velvety ropes of the underground

Where snakes slither and play

With poison dripping from dagger-like fangs

Through a venomous IV

Meant to silence me.



Wednesday, December 18, 2013

New Yuck City

“I’m off to New York City,”
Said the girl with big, green eyes.
“I’m tired of bed,
And people have said
The city’s alive all night!”

“I’m off to New York City,”
Said the girl with joy in her eyes.
“Where jazz plays in parks,
Drowning out little dogs’ barks,
And buildings launch through the sky!”

“I’m off to New York City,”
Said the girl with a glint in her eye.
“Where art’s splayed on streets,
And all the people you meet
Sound like international spies!”

“I’m off to New York City,”
Said the girl with a smile in her eyes.
“Where cupcake shops
Crème-fill my every sweet spot
‘Til a sugar rush shoots me high as a kite!”

“I’m back from New York City,”
Said the girl with sad, green eyes.
“Where everyone shoves past
Too furious and fast –
No attempt at acting polite.”

“I’m back from New York City,”
Said the girl with doleful eyes.
“Where sidewalks are piled
With garbage for miles,
Smelling like something died!”

“I’m back from New York City,”
Said the girl with a tear in her eye.
“Where homeless lay claim
To their street corners in shame
As tourists snap shots of their plight.”

“I’m back from New York City,”
Said the girl with fear in her eyes.
“Where dirty critters run amuck
‘Til the only thought that stuck



Tuesday, December 10, 2013


I opened a chapter.
You taught me to read.
Then, a book without words
Is all you left me.
I vowed to fill it
With words of my own.
But those pages lay empty
Years after you’ve gone.



Monday, December 9, 2013

One Hour

If we shared only an hour,

            would it be okay?

Because I love another

            the other hours of the day.



Sunday, December 8, 2013

Rapid Fire

Match flame set to wick.

Two fires ignite into one.

Quick is the stick spent

And the heat’s just begun.



Saturday, December 7, 2013


(A haiku collection)

Red light bleeds through snow
Covered sirens screaming
Murder in the night!


Shadows follow you
Down dark, side streets in the

Town where no one sleeps.


Lines in the ceiling
Plaster crack around her eyes

Showing signs of age.



Sunday, August 18, 2013


(A haiku collection)

O, espresso bean
Covered in dark chocolate
The adult lifesaver


Morning’s brown, ground bean
Coaxing my body from bed
Stimulating business


As the sun rises
I drink her in, light and sweet
Wet ladyfingers


Saturday, August 17, 2013

The Subway

(A haiku collection)

My concrete cocoon
Of dark tunnels transforms me --
Urban butterfly


Subway announcements
Like Chinese fortune cookies
Reveal missed connections


Your face flickers by
An abstract watercolor
On subway tiles


Friday, August 16, 2013

The Cell

Shine a light into my private cell
A rented, cold slab of decay
Where I landed unexpectedly
When floors crumbled, giving away

Lying still in suffocating darkness
That hanged like a man in the room
All stars and sky blocked out of view
These concrete blocks sealing my tomb

Where carefree laughter died mute
And dreams were chased away
By bottles of mind-numbing dolls
Whose potions kept pain at bay

Shine a light into my private cell
So it might pierce this consumptive black hole
Igniting trampled embers of hope
In a beaten and broken soul

If you shine a light into my private cell
I promise to hold on
Lift these lids up to another day
Bidding raven skies be gone


Thursday, August 15, 2013


The blind beggar in the subway car
With his ossified, outstretched hand
Clenching a torn and weathered, brown, paper bag
Containing two, dull and silver coins
Stumbles over the outstretched feet of weary riders
Refusing to meet his face
And knows his unseeing eyes
Will forever be unseen


Wednesday, August 14, 2013


The sun-baked, delivery boy on a beat up bike
Blazing down busy, one-way streets
Ignoring every traffic rule and sign
Cutting off the lady cursing him through clenched teeth
Jumping curbs so food slops on carton tops
Swearing as he climbs the stairs of city walk-ups
Finally, huffs at your door on the fifth floor
With a pain in his chest
Because you’re passed out, piss drunk on the couch
Too far gone to hear him knocking
So all you’ll get is the angry message he left
Found crusted on your front door.


Friday, August 9, 2013

Pee Shy

Excuse the flush; pink, wet cheeks ‘n’ all
I’m cowering in this corner stall
Please, turn the faucet – drip, drip, drip
I’ll never know how men do this prick-to-prick!


Thursday, May 30, 2013

The Slumlord

He sits behind a desk
A greedy man without a face
Collecting check after check
For each tiny, decrepit place

He seeks tenants with deep pockets
New York real estate isn’t cheap
People take everything they own and hawk it
For a sliver of space to sleep

Those crying pipes and faucets
Will never cease to drip
On moldy walls he’ll slap some paint
A Band-Aid is his tool kit

Repairs and renovations
Not things he cares about
Even vermin and dilapidation
Rarely provoke tenant walkouts

Play checkers with loose tiles
Hide ‘n’ seek with nocturnal pests
What’s wrong with this equation?
All these non-rent paying guests!

But he’ll never budge a bit on rent
Because of these infractions
You’ll have to learn to suck it up
When it comes to slumlord inaction

He sits behind a desk
A greedy man without a face
If a nice home is where you want to rest
I suggest you move posthaste!


Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Broken Circuit

I am
A broken circuit

On all night

My brain
Like the city
Never sleeps
Flashing, buzzing
Like a bright,
Street sign
Feet like fuses
Lighting up
Like fireworks
Little dogs
And toddlers

I am
A drunken
Skinny cow

On all night

An inconvenience
In this
Convenience store
Atrophied meat
To the
Walking dead
That raid the
Aisles and ATMs

I am
A bundle of

On all night

Like city traffic
Through my veins
Causing limbs to
Like maimed
On crosswalks

I am
Off course
On this

On all night

I am
The city
That never sleeps


Friday, May 17, 2013

Warrior Marks

A lover once told me
as I covered up the marks
on my marred alabaster skin
that scars are beautiful battle wounds
that prove you survived
fighting a difficult fight.
But I have a myriad of scars
that make me shudder
the worst of which no man can see
because they’re hidden deep inside
where they multiply and intensify
waging war on me
cutting closer and closer
to my delicate core
carving visible flaws
in my body’s design
redirecting its course
so that it opposes and fails me
and finally, brought to my knees,
I wonder how much strength
it will take to fight this inner battle
against me, for me
and how beautiful
winning this war would be.


Sunday, May 12, 2013

All Is Not Dead

All is not dead
On the streets or in my head
Lifting lids from a lazy slumber
Winter’s spell I’d fallen under

Now new life springs from near death
Exhaling a potent, perfumed breath
Pollen lips upon my skin
Honeyed warmth comes flowing in

All is not dead
On the streets or in my head
Lifting lids from a lazy slumber
Winter’s spell I’d fallen under

Words once stuck like gum to shoe
Now sprout from my brain like life anew
Winding the grid – north, south, east, west
To the rooftop I love best

Showering down on Tompkins’s lawn
Blanketing Earth in a lazy yawn
A picnic of food for thought
Nourishing life I thought near lost

All is not dead
On the streets or in my head
A vignette of Manhattan in spring
My senses are savoring

Bikers buzz by like busy bees
Love birds neck under canopied trees
All this I observe from a five-story seat
Better than any weekend Hampton retreat

All is not dead
On the streets or in my head
Basking under springtime rays
I hope for more of these blissful days


Tuesday, February 5, 2013

The Immigrant

The immigrant
who owns the coffee cart
near Union Square
speaks Arabic with my friend,
laughing and flashing his decaying teeth
as he tells her she works too hard
and drinks too much


Saturday, February 2, 2013

Groundhog Day

Disheveled hair and dress
O, what a beautiful mess!
Sleep walking into a sweaty state
Grunting, groaning, heartbeat soaring
Am I dreaming?
Am I dressed?
Yes, in yesterday’s clothes
The same as a day, two days, a week ago
Press rewind; repeat
Ready, set, go!
No, I forgot my shoes
Spent too many times hitting snooze
In a delirious, dreaming state
I scream, but do not wake
Run, run, run!
That hamster wheel
Count the fluffy, white sheep
Laughing in my face
As I struggle to stand
Time stuck still
If I jump, will I land
On two feet
In glacial waters
Flowing red across my chest
Am I dead?
No, but barely alive, at best.


Thursday, January 31, 2013

The Gift Of Enlightenment


Fear erupts suddenly from the depths of their bowels, causing a wave of nausea to wash over them in one, swift, sickening second – bodies tremble.

Confidence radiates threateningly from Her commanding figure as She scrutinizes the scared, shuddering subjects displayed in front of Her – body erect.


Panic surges forth, releasing a jolt of adrenalin to their bloodstream, coating the surface of their stripped skin with a saline sheen and filling their heads with a rhythmic thud that drowns out all other sounds – hearts pound.

Calm follows Her every movement as She skillfully and deliberately binds and restrains Her paltry victims whose perfectly pale and primed bodies beg for toying and disciplining as their lips plead for mercy – heart freezes.


Helplessness emerges as jaws are popped open and stuffed snuggly with gags while hands and feet are bound together tightly; arms anchored securely overhead, leaving them dangling languidly like puppets on a string to perform mutely for their mistress – blood drains.

Excitement springs forth like a feline to its prey, causing Her heart to pound, heaving Her chest up over the confines of Her tightly laced corset.  Her stern hand gripping and snapping a stiff, leather crop against the heel of Her black, patent boot.  Arousal titillating Her flesh as She soaks in the sight of Her sorry subjects – blood surges.


Pain shoots out like electricity from every nerve ending, causing their muscles to tense and tighten in a spastic dance.  Their bodies marked targets for torture, enduring smacking and jostling, prodding and poking like piñatas at a sadistic party.  Both guy and doll sway to and fro, heads bowed low, hot salt water springs erupting forth, streaking red, roughed-up faces and raw skin branded with crimson colored wounds and welts – flesh stings.

Pleasure envelopes Her entire body, bringing Her heightened senses to a violent climax as She finishes off the unmasking of the pretenders – flesh inflames.


Respect surfaces and attitudes change as the humility and pain seep deep into the core of their badly beaten bodies – egos shatter.

Distain replaces infatuation as her subjects lie abraded and exposed on the cold, hard ground for the world to witness the rawness of their imperfections – ego soars



Sunday, January 27, 2013

The City That Never Sleeps

Heat hissing from a corner steam pipe in my room
Wakes me like a nightmare on Elm Street
But this is Alphabet City, NYC, not a Freddy Krueger film
Where the screaming is not coming from my mouth
But from the deep throat of a woman four floors down
Breaking into my room through a slit of open glass
Quickening my pulse and tying up my insides
Because I know those not to be screams of fear
But extreme ecstasy the likes of which have not
Inflamed my lips to such passion in months
But who’s counting?
The ticking clock by my bedside, perhaps
Marking the minutes of my celibacy and her rush to God
Oh, God!
She’s coming at 1:22AM
On a Friday night
When church is closed
But this is the city that never sleeps
And apparently, nor do I


Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Memory Of a Nightcap

All around Hotel Gansevoort’s rooftop terrace
A city lit up with liquid neon in its veins
Canoodling couples let libations lasciviously slip
From nectared lip to nectared lip

And all that ever stays with me
Once morning lifts her lusty lash
Is the beauty of this unimaginable place
Shared with some handsome, nameless face