Short Crawlspace Poems

Why am I here? Not existentially
but literally why am I here in the
crawlspace. "Why are any of us
here?" Woh! Who are you
people?...

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now is glare caged and pasted dry 
where once wet opened drapery skin so wide
 
moments stubble the truth even as it chews
on dreams stored in eyes’ dark crawlspace...

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That unshared secret…
a crawlspace of denial
where shadows keep your heart at bay,
lonely all the while

To hide in darkened corners,
as falsehood lends its smile
your mind left cramped—all virtue tramped,
banished and exiled

(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)...

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Hey, Grace.
Do you know where I last left my face?
Did I happen to leave it in your lap, after taking that quick nap?
Or perhaps, after that embrace, did I leave it in your narrow crawlspace?
No? Oh, crap!

She said, "Oh, that just can't be!
This poem has no semblance to reality!"
I said, "How can you say that,
when it's painfully clear that
it's the reality of me!”
...

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Liquid stars drip to a sparkle,
look up take a sip get your fill;
Peek out of your crawlspace;

Constellations and chaos cross
feeding poets with wishing sauce;
Eager to share a trace;

Fear not the view of a black hole,
untold may charge your soul;
Dreams falling from space;

Glitter dancing with ebony 
creates a cosmic melody;
Fly without the freebase;

That acrid adrenaline rush 
will breed in you a need to push;
Entertain it’s embrace....

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