My Kitchen

Come Into my kitchen
You will be cold
Even the twigs
Can never make you comfortable

You will laugh to light
Their embers
For what boiling sausage
And your glass needs washing

A chain dangles low
The chicken leg
Is out of place
Pull yourself out of this

The future appears
So you are confused
Where or when are you
Time and place confused

Repetition is continuous
Only turning off
Just to start again
But in the next room

A thousand generations
Set up silent shop
Windows open 
Breezes flow in to out

Fundamental language
Echoes
But you just smell
The signage of smoke





A Young Man Opts Haiku

Define pleasure
A treasure
Unable to measure

Physicians
Ignore time
Sublime statisticians

Sleep can't erase a face
So do it
Makeup can erase it

Drinking and writing
Seems exciting
Watch who you are citing

Spaces there are
Making it funny
When legs are crumbly

Why a time
When all answers rhyme
But questions commit crime

f

It’s Eighty Years

It’s eighty years

In the basement

Mixing fears

In a lubricant

In an air raspy

Laying on a brass bed

Never wispy

Nor by government misled

Talkin bout a boxer

Lecturing the snobs

Mother maybe bobby soxer

Twisting recording knobs

So that greasy oil

Maintained a croaky sound

Time yet not could spoil

He did get around

When Beethoven was a Child

When beethoven was a child

God came to him

To tame the wild

Of his rhythm

But gods disguise

Fooled ludwig

Thinking otherwise

Not caring a fig

He wrote beyond

Any excuses

Witnessing the pond

Of froggy juices

So made blind

Luigi switched sides

To only remind

Where god resides

In sonorosity

Sensual confusion

He forgot deity

Divinely writing in profusion

Do you hear a haiku here?

Do you hear a haiku here?

Uno

Which sound
Lochs my ground
On keys? Respond

Phonic fountain
Potatoes au gratin
Nutrition audition

String fingers
Stick it to
The orchestra

Due

She gives us
Death slowly
No fuss
Erato-reality

Too much time
Finding keyes
Who could climb
Musicalities

So no big jumps
Just themes
Marking humps
Proto memes

Tre

Tickle for
An explosion
The piano score
Exposition

Conglomerate
Sounds, emotions
perseverate
Experience explosions

So the pianoforte
Greets orchestral
When he oughta
Call em, imperial