rodomontade

he parades
part of the cavalcade
reciting his rodomontade
inciting imaginary cavalry
with bluster in place of bravery

nocuous

they tremble in terror
rage so that spittle flies
they make a big scene
to deflect from their lies
they cannot comprehend
their word deemed not enough
that anyone dare doubt
or call out their bluff
they’ve never once thought
how others are treated
like this every day
till spirits defeated
the atmosphere nocuous
with belligerent privilege
too myopic to see
the extent of their damage

trousseau

yellowing lace
in a cedar box
neatly folded
outmoded hopes
auctioned off
ancient trousseau
for a love that died
a long, long time ago

orotund

again again again
the orotund old men
threaten or cajole
certain that their role
is to direct and overpower
as if to woo or wow her
but never
do they stop and think
as they drive her
to the brink
of the damage done
by youth and drink
and cruelty and privilege
as they drive her off the ledge
and when she falls
KABAM KERSPLAT
they pity him
who witnessed that
but never her
the one ambushed
the one they fought
the one they pushed

habiliment

grey cobbles shine
like aquarium pebbles
as neon rain reflects in
mirror shoe-shine black boots
he wear the fog
like a 1940s noir novel
his habiliments, like himself,
an anachronistic hodgepodge
a hedgehog tone poem
soft belly vulnerable as
his heart song swells
a trolley bell
heard before seen
in the early morning scene

secrete

she wept
behind the smiles
secreted away
her tears
her fears
and pretended
the past never happened
and he pretended
the past never happened
and he moved on
a bit more brutal
and she moved on
a bit more broken
and the world said to both

the past never happened

glade

in autumn dusk
as winter made
together dance
in fairy glade
‘mongst red and brown
and orange leaves
that pirouette
upon the breeze
to usher in
the time of rest
wherein the land
holds its breath

biannual

interstitial lassitude
in biannual frequency
a personal equinox
wherein i turn away
or towards the sun
a spring or autumn
sine wave sinuous
left hand sinister
in in-between spaces
i stir

viva voce

down the ages
mother to daughter
father to son
midnight whispers
tell the tale
viva voce
of the one

panoply

apart
but still
a part
the panoply
parades on by
and I
I walk behind
the great and grand
reach out a hand
and I
I walk behind
alone aloof
I gather proof
from the scraps
they left behind
and of their remains
make poetic strains
as I
I walk behind

milieu

atrophy 

has made
this of me

my milieu
this
abandoned patch 

of ground
planted here 

earthbound

yet I strive 

to touch the sun

flowering beyond

what one might

have thought

i ought

atone

never having been popular
fear of being unlikable
makes me a pushover
eats me up inside
had I more pride
perhaps I would
stand up for myself
to atone for one
failure of character
and so doing
perhaps eliminate the other
but the risk so great
and my history teaches me
that I am dispensable
to some I find indispensable 
for them I can be
the fiercest advocate
for them. for everyone
but me

lenitive

the ritual begins
the tap/the kettle/the flame
the whistling/the same/the same
every time the same
the leaves/the pot/the pour
put the top on top
and wait to steep
refreshing as a sleep
the pour/the steam
refreshing as a dream
adding the milk, drip by drip
the stir/the puff/the wait to sip
the lenitive properties
of a cup of tea
restoring peace
sustaining me

chiliad

the space of days
since last we met
seems a chiliad
but also a breath

whether a day
or a decade
it is always too long
but also only yesterday

resplendent

painted
in purples and pinks
ochers and umbers
resplendent
in her swirling gown
the sun
dances down the day
and the sky
and I
both change
to sleep

melancholia

it is not nostalgia
nor melancholia
not quite but akin
this feeling that
washes over me when
I recall you calling me
sweet and whimsically
to pun me out
of sadness slyly
your melankylie

advert

twixt three and four
of afternoon
day slows
blood sugar drops
so do my thoughts
adverting to
conversations
best forgot
or never even had
beyond a wink
& solemn nod
they turn to
garbled songs
or made up
playground gods
until the phone rings
or email dings
or cat's meow
and I drag myself
again to now

taradiddle

replace the lie with truth

til truth is commonplace

we forgive the child

their taradiddle told to save face

or assume they act out for attention

but make no such concession

for the abettors of democracy's demise
for mendacity in men and women

elders but not betters

older but less wise

enigmatic

a poem for emily

only she will understand

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SPUNKY JIMBO

deportment

to
those who judge finesse of ferocity
those who would champion mediocrity
if it came with pretty smile and was demure under duress
to
they who make as though a woman
who breaks the mold is not more but less
but might forgive her if she wears the right dress
to
those who care more
for deportment
than achievement
to
you - history will not kindly remember you
and there's plenty of us right now
who think you should fuck right off
too

fathom

bottomless wells

walking around with an

infinite abyss within

we cannot fathom

our own depths much less

the walking well next to us

but still we shout

we love an echo

wanderlust

feet itching and heart sore
wanderlust fills
the empty space within
and I long to begin again
the best balm for loneliness
new worlds to explore

periphrasis

I am guilty
I admit
pith flees
brevity not
my soul’s wit
plagued by periphrasis
my mouth runs away
would I had an editor
to curb
my conversational dismay

schmooze

I understand the need
the networking
the self-promotion
the marketing
the devotion
to schmooze the VIPs
to know who it is
I need to please
I understand to get ahead
egos should be stroked
egos should be fed
but there it is...
ambition lost;
I want success
but not the cost

quiddity

I have not known you long
nor known you deeply
I cannot familiarity claim
or even name your author
you are, to me, a new book
spine uncracked, pages crisp
and though as yet unread
the quiddity of you
shines through enough to tempt
this bookworm to burrow
and find myself in
your chapter and verse

banshee

a sultry August subway hall
when first I heard the banshee call
a wail heralding the death of us as us
making "us"
a you
and
a me

a kiss goodbye
followed by you charging down the stairs
unawares that I looked back
and you did not

I looked back
for one more glimpse
as every time before
and you walked away
looking back no more

then I knew

and in my knowing had to stew
for days until you did
what, I guess, you had to do

ingratiate

I wash my hands
of the whole enterprise
I grow weary not wise
the attempt to find
a kindred mind and spirit
dispiriting in the extreme
exhausting beyond measure
to ingratiate myself with
those who give me pleasure
and find that still it's not enough
better instead to toughen up
and forge ahead alone
than chase my tail
chasing tail
like a dog digging
for a phantom bone

mentor

a midnight confusion
clouds my mind
and settles in to take root
a weed seeded by ill winds
mentors have I had
in gardening gear
to show with hoe and spade
to leave the flowers
but still my bed in disarray
watered by too many showers

coeval

life lived a million times
a multiverse of maybes
and comfort found
in the concept that coeval
to this life there is another
wherein regrets are lived
and other choices made
and neither better or worse
but complete

symposium

were i to host
a symposium
for all my exes
to expound on why
the stars aligned
not with me
but with the next
what would i expect
and what would i learn
and what would i change
could the stars be rearranged
ever was i early
born under a late star
i overcompensate