Thanksgiving Prayer
To charity
and the abandoned
in city streets.
To dogs that follow
taillights blinded
with hunger.
The winos who’re
pissing themselves in
the drunk tanks.
The abandoned
baby carriages
near the hospitals.
The preacher walking
last miles with
smiling murderers.
The harlot who has
used all her kindness
left only with hate
The cartoonist
alone with laughter
of others.
The window washer
no longer careful
after a divorce.
The actress who
died in a hundred
films afraid of death.
The wine that keeps
these thoughts at bay
or brings them fourth.
A concluding whisper that
eyes opening to another
day- is still a gift.
You're My Daisy
Yet tonight
I think of churches with doors closed
to me forever.
The getaway driver
finally seeng holes in the plan
as bullets whizz by.
The depth of dreams
shallow as a mirror
reflecting chaos.
Debauched youth and loss
dancing together drunk
enough for laughter.
The missing electric hum
of ghosts in circles
of thought.
The door slightly
ajar to invite chance
to play another card.
Boredom like a virus
gaunt with need
and hunger I
no longer know well.
A daisy in the garden
facing the sun
afraid of nothing
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