Some poems and short articles I’ve written.

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The de-evolution will be televized
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You will not be able to stay on your homepage, browser.
You will not be able to logoff, sign up, or opt out.
You will not be able to find yourself in the bits and the bytes,
Skip out on content and watch commercials
Because the de-evolution will be televized.

The de-evolution will be televised
The de-evolution will be brought to you by MTV
In HD, 1080p, and even 3D, where available
The de-evolution will show you a picture of Obama
In two colors and call it art. Garfunkel, Simon,
Would not approve, but they will burn it to a
Disc on their Macbook Pro in a sub-urban Starbucks
The de-evolution will be televized.

The de-evolution will be brought to you by the
Howard Stern Sirius™ Radio show and will star Honey
Boo Boo and Miley Cyrus in Paranormal Activity
The de-evolution will not cure your curiosity
The de-evolution will not make you look ten pounds lighter,
because the camera adds ten pounds, vlogger.

There will be plenty of pictures of you and Mark Zuckerburg
Liking comments and videos all over your timeline
or wall or profile or whatever they decide to call it tomorrow.
NEWS CORP will decide the winner ever time
and report it on all domains
The de-evolution will be televized.

There will be videos from satellites of us shooting down Osama in night vision.
There will be videos from satellites of us shooting down Osama in night vision.
There will be no pictures of a healthy Whitney Houston
running onstage with Michael Jackson to a new song
There will be slow motion replays of replacement
Referees tainting the opiated inflow to our masses, waving yellow
flags at our juiced-up jumpsuit idols, who have been praised
despite their many perversions.

Modern Family, Hawaii 5-0, and The Real Housewives of
Nowhereville will always be relevant in the
minds of those who care if the Patriots finally
beat the Giants in the Super Bowl because all people
should go outside themselves and play in the sun-shone grass.
The de-evolution will be televized.

Each night, there are highlights on the hour, every hour.
There are even pictures from the space
station of our little blue meaningless smudge spinning.
The theme song will not be written by John Cage and
John Williams; nor sung by John Legend or John
Mayer or the John Cougar Melloncamp and Coltrane.
The de-evolution will be televized.

The de-evolution will always be right back,
just after this commercial break and messages from our sponsors
You will not have to worry about imagination at work,
just do nothing and have it your way.
The de-evolution will not think different
The de-evolution will not build a smarter planet
The de-evolution will not give you wings.

The de-evolution will be televized,
will be televized, will be televized, will be televized.
The de-evolution will be full of re-runs and sequels
And come prerecorded on your DVR.

(inspired by Gil Scott-Heron’s The Revolution Will Not Be Televised)

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Published Articles
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Black Abbey - Special
Link to digital issue & blog.

Blackstone - Adam Bomb
Link to digital issue & blog.

Little Harpeth - Chicken Scratch
Link to digital issue & blog.

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Sonnet Sequence: Vicious Cycle
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Misery Under Appreciated

I think that all our romance needs is time,
Like how a rainbow inks across the sky.
Devotion shows no reason and no rhyme:
I only want it more when you deny.

She may not know it, though it clearly shows:
The way I catch her echo down the hall,
The way I see the beauty in her nose
Like twisted velvet flakes tied in a bow.

Then suddenly she seemed to know my name
And we began to walk, her hand in mine
My arm wrapped snug around her brazen frame:
A lusty bond that knew not hen from swine.

And once you have, you neither want nor need
But how desire inspires when it should heed!

Ecstasy Overused

Each day we’d sit upon the dunes and stare,
Indifferent to the yelps of cheeky gulls
My fingers splicing blades of your red hair,
The breathy waves in song did us both pull,

To dreamscapes’ neon fountains undersea
Where even as a silver spool of thought
Which bonds us fast, behold love’s guarantee;
Till death unties our sweet love’s tangled knot.

But Mary please, remember who you are;
Remember how we used to howl with glee,
Laid strewn across the dune we two ajar,
And ready for the other’s mystery.

But like the riddle’s answer in the light:
Once told again, becomes but half as bright.

Regret Relived

Like two arthritic limbs of primal pine
We laid in shade across the grassy knoll
Your hand outstretched careening in towards mine
You touched my skin but stuck against my soul.

How can you know the depth of my desire?
As thick as frost caked to the Arctic floor,
My bond to you will never break or tire.
She has unfortunate love – it is no more.

And now as months and years pass faster still
Without you here to check my malady
Still age’s clock ticks by against my will
And evermore you’ll be my escapee.

So firm your grasp on those you love and need.
But careful! Not too tight or they’ll recede.

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Like these words? I also write songs.