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Laughing Wolf Poem
#7
Detroit, five a.m.—
Soon, my city will rise and
disturb the ravens.
#19
Windmills in autumn/
apple orchards/ falling fruits
of nativity.
#0807
Flowers on your grave
wilt like the words I could say
that might bring you back.
#43
Midnight festivals:
paper lanterns burning oil
in the summer mist.
#9
Music can transform
uncomfortable silence
into miracles.
#26
I want to take my
time with your hourglass and then
come back for seconds.
#1125
When you go away
the rabbits will not come back
from the magic hat.
#88
Eagles lock talons
together they form and break
like the divine winds.
#99
You are the warden
of my prison of regrets
you have all the keys.
#63
She holds my hand tight
when our love is imperfect
she is not afraid.
Copyright © Laughing Wolf | Year Posted 2015
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Laughing Wolf Poem
A laughing wolf stares
at sheep that do not gather
they are dangerous.
Copyright © Laughing Wolf | Year Posted 2015
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Laughing Wolf Poem
We touch in those warm, dark places
with long reach and deep texture
our bodies make original artwork
as we describe what cannot be said
I have lost myself inside you
in eyes and thighs, wise and wide
my life and death can be found where
we touch in those warm, dark places.
Copyright © Laughing Wolf | Year Posted 2015
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Laughing Wolf Poem
You know when I am sleeping.
You know when I am awake.
Big Brother…
I know who you are.
You have a song in your honor—
congratulations: Fred Krueger does too.
If we do not have a fireplace
then we have no chimney…
so there must be
a lock pick or glass-cutter
in that goodie-bag of yours.
B & E is a criminal offense
in this great, democratic republic.
They say you’re coming to town.
Fine, whatever flies your sleigh.
Tell you what: come on by.
I promise to have a nickel plate
of freshly baked bullets for you,
who knows when I am sleeping
and knows when I am awake.
Big Brother…
I know who you are.
P.S. — César Chávez wants to chat
with those elves that work for you.
Copyright © Laughing Wolf | Year Posted 2015
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Laughing Wolf Poem
In the shadows of dreams
I wear on my smile
Lust without longevity, soft screams
Veils of gentleman guile
A pair of dead eyes holds in place
A cold heart and two warm arms
Alive but absent in space
Of the deception of courting charms
But flirting with the naïve
Quickly enough, if not tragic…
An ambush she couldn’t believe
By romance and its alleged magic
The story comes to close
A candle amongst echoes.
Copyright © Laughing Wolf | Year Posted 2015
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