brother

the wheel in your hand
across this fertile land
so many songs you've sung
so many hours ground down
lenses scoping out the action
the reactions, surprised
parties averted gazes and
the twelve steps to nowhere.
vice grip pliers held that
wheel in place, a two-tone
bus with us half grown
steering our way, off to
the highway, the long, long
winding road home, the stolen flag
a bartender's gift, like a
splash in the plaza fountain
without all that fame to
distract us, to grab the wheel
coming loose in our hands.
 
 
 
 

bridge to nowhere

you're my own personal bridge
to     no    where
you collect people like stamps
the initial fascination before
closing the book, to return to
whenever, like social networking

done alone

in the privacy of your home,
another thumbnail, perfectly
preserved, among others, so
diverse, on your B-list, out
there in the wilderness, on
the path where snakes mate,
making you uneasy, too raw,
too close/this bridge leads
me to think i should turn
back. where are you
taking me    today?