The silver watch

 Green sweat ticks from within the pulse
Wrist watch moustache
Freaky bracelet adjuster
tan line biter

Enough with the insults
hands stop turning to check
The battery is deceased
it opens up and closes

Silver reflecting the sun
Hoping it be noticed
The prized accessory
Like the mercedes

It was dreamed of and coveted 
Years before it could be afforded
And as soon as it was acquired it was forgotten
Like a piece of the body suddenly

Only coming off before a shower
like an identity tag
A freaky piece of jewelry
a glued on moustache

A tiny glass table
with twelve places set

Sourness fried

 Friday sourness brows furrows
tires you out sanding down bones
Wigwamming the skull
swig and gulps avoid dehydration

morning grinds nerves
Midday chaps lips
Sun scores points 
house heat sweats the flesh

People still order the sourness
|Salty exhaustion 
Battered and thrown
Into the frying pan

Turned as the pan bubbles and pops
browning
Landing on the screen
splattering

Katrina in the stadium

 Shes sitting in the stand with her best friend
No big opinions about anything
Just checking the information
creating those temporary jokes
Little handy pieces of gossip

Twenty six, blond, quasi professional cheerleader
Rich parents that are obsessed with her
Dimples that flare during smiles and shock
The kind of tan that gives her legs a caramel look
Incredibly giggly and charismatic

Her face angles change when she shows interest
One goes from left to right as if a thought is turning her head
The subtlest of smiles reveals something secret
It has so many features, so many airports to those dimples
It is simply evidence for the evolution of her smile

The glitch in my father

 The glitch in the father
He stood there rollerdoor open
He stands there taking in the ray of sunlight
Then the sky becomes overcast

He shifts into twin existance
Two of him overlapping himself
like an outside aura
All the shapes and color of the father

The air is a concrete color
the breathing in and out
feels like wool
He looks out to his parked car

Goes back through his story
His face giving evidence
As he travels through memory
Him and his double

Which part of him is real
soon the courier will arrive
Some boxes will leave
He will just stare through his spectacles

stuck in the memories
transported by them
Made vague there in the factory corridor
Concrete and neutral

Vanity and the slug brain

 The gym is inside outside
push yourself its intimate
In the pink
glass walls
Transparency
The other gyms nearby
looked into each other

People looking on
Gossiping and eavesdropping
You are exposed
every attempt amusing
Trying hard
falling short
delusion frolics

The brain is not sexy
The flesh and muscles are
The brain is a slug
leaving trail of goo
The gym keeps us dry
Soaks up the slime
Then you sweat

eyes fall on your skin
from inside the gym
through the glass
you think it's progress
But it's desperation
Like I said
Delusion frolic
Your oen legs dance
To the rhythm it creates

It turns into a rally

 On the hill above the squabbling crowds
giving their ridiculous opinions
Their political bias spewed out
the way they hold each other up

Hateful words irrigating the mob
Rhetoric both abrasive and poisonous
Yet the swarms gobble it down immune
Or worse sustain their outrage on it

Eyes fill with rage and survey the surroundings
Like the audience was checking itself for outsiders
The words slipped from the box
Up out of the throat falling through the air

Like young people flying out of a water slide
Straight into the anticipating ears of the multitude

Meals on the mar

 She's a luncheon maiden 

working on the cruise defused

All spikey and wacky

A voyeur far from shore

Unhinged but adored

uncertain of her charm

Undressed and unsure

duvet open

leg lotion

just a special luncheon

and a table cloth around her waist