“Let it all come to you,

Do not chase.

If it does not happen,

Move on.

There is something better,



Waiting for you

Over the next hill.”


Those were my words to the boy


The smell of sex and silence

On a gray afternoon

Mixing with the rain

Drumming on the windows,

Drumming on the rooftop

Bringing dark clouds

Dark shadows

To my already dark eyes



I do not know


I do know why I was driven to the Merchant Marine

Out of fear

Fear of what

Fear of that chair

That desk

That bed

That woman

That street

That self


For the next fifty-years


Be like water

I am water

Running all around you

Running all over you

Forming to your body

Becoming your temperature

Becoming you

Loving, caressing…messaging

Over time


Wearing away mountains

Wearing away identities

Wearing away realities

Holding you

Lifting you

Kissing you

Carrying you

Far away

With a soft beautiful song