Two Poems (May 20, 2009. Issue 5.)

In Capable Hands

I met him
on the way up.
I've known men
with sexier smiles.
His was always
kissing corners.
Daft with them.
He settled on someone
still giving it obvious lubrication
in the areas where none is.
They went away like canyons
and reappeared only
on lost weekends
anxious for the retelling.

The Guitar Gods Commandeer

Your ticket stub
reveals many things.
Date and time of birth,
a preference for low slung arses
like gardens hanging nearly above
usurious passions.
You have a tendency for blue funks,
lesser known as an idea man than
a politically incoherent one,
successful in your support
of tactical nonchalance.
Could that rain date
be written any clearer?