You're On My Money

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vo7x4JAWNNQ

Mute

Mute

I've forgotten how to read

I've lost the ability to leave these times

The luxury of an interior life

Seems too costly to maintain

My body misses something

Hands move around furtively

Reaching for a page

When there's nothing there

The quality of the lighting

Reminds us of old tv

Actors move around uninspired 

The cameraman can't hear

We don't know what we're missing

Having lost the pages to describe 

A terrible thing that keeps on rolling

Around somewhere in ourselves 

Elevator Hours

elevator hours

how far do we zoom out
to make sense of this

to understand the nature
of these occurences

bird’s eye view may not be adequate
satellite image of the planet

maybe a time-lapse supernova
billions of years flat

how close do we get
when it doesn't make sense

when sex doesn’t explain it
perhaps twenty years in bed

elevator hours
before taking stairs

feel what exhaustion
can do for understanding

we embrace contradictions
with a loving touch

climax as the friction
hits the spot

and again we ask
wrong questions

from our limited perspectives
it's all just a bit too much

The Orgasm Thief

The Orgasm Thief

Silent, deadly she 

Creeps between sheets

In the windows of widows 

In dreams of pre-teens

Whisper her name

And then she disappears

Through your window 

And up the next street

Leaving you shaking

A leaf without relief

You’ve been done in again

By the orgasm thief

Striking fear

In the heart of everyone near

At the point of climax 

She rides out of there   

Making you worry about 

Laundry, deadlines, impending bills

Car payments, baby sitters

You lie there stilled 

Put her out of your mind

Refuse to give in 

Send her down the road 

To that children’s hospital