MANTICORE

you are always
flailing
flailing about
with your terrible
claws

your venom
is nasty
and nobody even
likes you
but manticores
like it better that way




RADIANT MAN

in the Huffin House bathroom
you are glowing every
hour of the night

you watch over me
when I am peeing
always with your
sad & honest eyes
eyes incapable of judgement
eyes just like
your still beating heart

Radiant Man
you are the patron saint
of urine
and we leave our human hairs
in the drain of the shower
as offerings
to your quiet splendor

I know you wish the world
were not this way
but I am glad you will still
accept me as I am
if not always
then for at least as long
as we leave you plugged in




SORCEROR

you are the root
of all my misery

always
watching with your
furrowed brow

your powers
are long and white
like the hairs
on your mage head

that is because
your hair
is where you keep your powers

people say
my poems are
formulaic

but nobody says that
about your magic spells
and when you think about it
those two are not so different

I know you see
a twisted future
when you look through
your demon oculus

the oculus
which you had enchanted
last week

I only wish I could know
your true intention

maybe then
my visions of you
would not haunt me quite so bad

often, I feel
we are nothing but chumps
in your metaphysical game of craps

every time we roll the dice
we roll two
thousand serpent eye balls
but somehow we just cannot
keep from playing

you watch me in your
obsidian orb
as I get home and
sit down at the typewriter:

"SORCEROR

you are the root
of all my misery,"

I write





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