13 degrees

skim of sweat.
blackbird on a black line,
line on wall
facade for a crack.
13 degrees,
she required
no wrap in a listless
she, lack of urgency,
lay on a wall top
glass scanning bed 
scans her
prints the truth.
no shoe soles, crystallizes
a thought into a poem
but throws away the ink,
throws away the
avalanche of gray clouds,
she digs out to 
waste a day
seeks more numbness 
in an alcohol
ordinary sensations,
washes dirty dishes by hand,
in a pot on an old stove,
boils up some
her ex scrapes off his life onto
old automobiles,
pushes them into a bottomless
they sink like apologies in 
a cold sea.
station wagon backs up on 
a highway
she climbs in with her blackbird,
her once husband puts his
hand between
her satin legs,
she surrenders her desire,
degrading need
but still
hungry for each other.
“I saw this beautiful woman
on a wall…”
Copyright © 05/16/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®

steampunk scraper

plaster cobblestone



invading tenants


the homeless

meander like



rusting rivets leak

like a sieve into


the scraper’s water



black and white

brain memories




bad newspaper headline…


flatfoots on the take,

they seem like a theater with unseen



crouched behind tin trashcans…


scraper top shadows casted

on passing dirigibles


spyglasses look through

broken panes of glass,


riders of the clouds

contemplate their

own absence;


inhabitants pull down

plastic shades,

plastic memories.




hold onto a thousand



in a sweaty palm, one,


a tattered bus ticket



sound and smell of an

old bus


pulls up,


hugs the curve


like a Jesuit priest

hugs a


collection plate.


tenants stand in




free fall like rain

on a Coney Island


arcade roof;


pour out onto

a desolate

street corner,


bus door half



potential passengers

wear the life name

tag given


at birth…


bus exits,




numb to the stench…


Copyright © 05/10/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®


the fenced wide field level

frozen ground swell pushes unsplit rail
upwards to grasp a cold sun
barbed wire black as coal to sew 
unruly clouds, as one 
does to nuns yardsticked knuckles
grass ladened hills painted by amateur
artist hand skill 
gets an art show recognition as one
does in a gallery
hunters diminish  baa baa black sheep wool,
have not left one stone on one stone
cattle rancher mends the fence along a
parallel line, 
like a french ‘ligne marginal’, stays on his
side of the wall perhaps,
but listens for the sheep rancher’s mending,
listens for the yelping dogs;
sheep farmer grasps one stone firmly,
comes through a wood,
comes through a dark
lifts up a kitchen window, like lifting
up the hood of ’57 ford pickup
mud and sweat on linoleum, on 
bedroom carpet
old stone armed, damage done,
two deceased,
now in a deep, steady sleep,
he gets confused in shadowy moon,
becomes impaled like 
pikers on a stingy bet;
barbed wire black as coal to sew 
wounds with lockjaw
he doesn’t understand his rights
like black sheep didn’t
understand gunshot wounds,
barbed wire black as coal to sew…
Copyright © 04/29/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®

a deeper silence

sawed off a section by the railroad committee 

sawed off like a .12 gauge barrel 
sawed off, rolled to the ground
saw horse galloped off
(searching for frank l. baum),
handful of sawdust taken by termites
to feed their young
railroad tie no longer eating the tree bark,
stack of corded wood eating a fireplace fire;
big pieces of forest trees used to make
tables for poor houses
others, used as railroad ties to transport them,
clothes given them at birth already tattered,
already ragged
much like black and white prison stripes,
like forests, dwellers in a make believe wood,
hoping, hoping;
they touch the tree like a blind man touches
his face with a razor
when tree cutters come, they crash through
saplings like hounds do a fox
masses do not have a soul, was sold for clothing
kindling burns for railroad hobos like old
frying pans on wood stoves,
have to fight boxcar space with children’s dirty
faces, with dirty tears;
poor house bound, corner quick, slick rain track,
derails into a swamp
metal and creosote twisted wreckage, carpentry
on trains obsolete like new growth forests
survivors. too poor to die. but, one railroad tie
lies motionless
cannot emerge, is not rescued, marsh crane
to land on…
Copyright © 04/22/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®