Published on: 12/28/2012
Phantoms

in the parlor the ghost plays a
sonata on the piano

mother does her make-up above sounds
of Bauhaus fading in the background

memories of dead lovers fly
like phantoms in the summer wind

I sit outside on the porch swing
dreaming of Death in his silk robe

bending down on bony knees
to beg for my hand

I pretend mother hasn't been
dead for fourteen years

and I am young again

Published on: 12/27/2012
Sartre's Lover and the Age of Loneliness

I could have studied
at the Sorbonne like Sartre's lover…
but I had a bout of nausea
and had hit a wall,
falling from the grace of ambition

If nothingness was my God
and God was everywhere then
I didn't care to be in that void

If we were all alone
and dead and lonely
and I had a lover like you…

then what would I have?