screwdriver heaven

deliverance from the everyday
grind
making room for
relaxation.
calling all the
nomads
wandering in circles
with broken compasses
to come in and
touch our warmth. there
is no criteria to get in
here,
the rank sweetness is ready
when you arrive.
the glorious bar that
serves drinks 24-7.
we can slug them down
one
after another
beyond
the gray gloom of our
old worlds
we go on
without the battles,
comrades of the bottle
and
dissipating tears.

dead air

a storm
roving with a dark calm
in the
middle of the night.
hell hounds
in dead portraits
push on
tracking the
blood of children.
too late
as you stared longingly into
those devious eyes
too long,
they took many.
too long
for cloudy minds to clear
from the magic show
that manifested the
plastic revolvers
on the stained streets
of Tienamen Square.
so let the waves
hum with the melody of
electric current as
overpowering clocks
ring loud
in the ghettos.
and the fair weather
retirement communities
scream
from tortured ears
wailing for what has past.
hear the world
winding down for the war
slipped beneath freedom.

el Commandante
June 30th, 2005