one foot in the grave

& the other in the
sea. sitting at a table
in the shade. young
face all wrinkled with
delight. talking in his
very own tongue to the
sparrows & the flowers
& the house & the
wind. listening intently
to the cars. might they
have some
thing interesting to
add to the conversation? the
train stops at every
farm on the short
distance between the
towns. & the foot in the
grave is moved to a near
by island before

tyrant of hell

or of earth. or of
some piece of land or
other. leave us in
peace. to our own
devices. to our own
mornings. with
coffee probably too
strong for our own
good. & bizarre local
radio stations. waiting

death dealer

one for you & one
for you & one for
the lady in the
back & just may
be a little one for
you in the shark
skin suit

now if you want any
more just come
back to me

tales of the macabre

politics
love (between
two people) border
controls borders
loneliness (not
chosen) makers of
norms the wrong
town

want more?

where is hamidur
rahman?

the what & how

in 1987 slaughter, a wild canadian trio, released their only album titled strappado. as far as i know they then split up. the album has stayed with me these 20 years & now it's time to openly build a small series of poems based upon the titles of the twelve songs