Women are trouble: /
Men are Loser’s Hand-me-downs; /
Death smiles so sweetly.

Women are trouble: /
Men are Loser’s Hand-me-downs; /
Death smiles so sweetly.

Summer bumblebee /
exploring the cone flower, /
your fall is unknown.

Homemade mobile home /
Old truck and dreams unbound /
Rust winks at all hopes.

Filed under 2018, Photo Finish Friday, poetry by author

THE CON JOB
the ground war began today
at dawn
in a desert land
far from here.
the U.S. ground troops were
largely
made up of
Blacks, Mexicans and poor
whites
most of whom had joined
the military
because it was the only job
they could find.
the ground war began today
at dawn
in a desert land
far from here
and the Blacks, Mexicans
and poor whites
were sent there
to fight and win
as on tv
and on the radio
the fat white rich newscasters
first told us all about
it
and then the fat rich white
analysts
told us
why
again
and again
and again
on almost every
tv and radio station
almost every minute
day and night
because
the Blacks, Mexicans
and poor whites
were sent there
to fight and win
at dawn
in a desert land
far enough away from
here.
—Charles Bukowski
Filed under 2018, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday

I whispered bye to you today. /
Cancer overflowing in you /
Aggressive as the tears from my eyes. /
There was nothing good in the parting /
Except the end of your pain.
Spring cleaning rolls out /
the presence of memories, /
Christmas tree, and trash.

The Hail Mary here /
Is neither pass nor prayer /
but hope for the creek.

Filed under 2018, Photo by Lauren Booker, Photo Finish Friday, poetry by author
4-1-3-1-8 /
Triskaidekaphobia /
All my luck foretold.


My doctor’s closet /
is on a knee to show basis. /
No bones about it.
The colors of stars /
Constellations in bloom /
Heavens underfoot.
