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He's a bad teacher Kind of a demon If he doesn't pass you You're in for some fun To question him? Well Even the winners run- From this teaching-demon The snarl of those lips- His sharpness of teeth;                                                                                                                                 All studious students Had better take heed: You know that he will fail you If you don't repeat- And with him your parents will meet. At first you think It was good to try his class- But after your first term... It will begin- You'll come to realize You've read his kind of lies On every Wiki page For free! This entire c

How does it come about that in a nation full of good people, Our elections are never a choice between the greater of two goods?

Thoughts burst to life as eyes close to sleep; the morning greets a deadened mind.

Running, we are always running... I can hear screaming in my head; sounds of agony. We are the living dead. Feed me into the hell of this desolate land; when I'm gone there will be nothing left It ended - discordant no more important than might-have-been and no more distant than the very phantasms of time. But for all it was not... it was mine. There is a piano playing in the background of our lives And the darkness that seduces the world is drawing near So tell me, my dear Where are the iridescent stars now? Speak to me at night- Reach through the water to where my ears listen, at the bottom of the ocean.

There is honesty in the pen, For the man who wears the mask will sing, His cue is but a part to play with no chains to the face. But there is honesty in the mouth, For emotion holds a heated tip, stabbed deep in the heart where words burst forth. My flowers and his prose, Shape a world of wonder and majesty, Truth is lost to the pen of the poet who cannot face himself. The man so tied in his own webs, Lost from the light of the mask's embrace, Truth is lost to the mouth of the man with no guard. Both hidden from the judge, As clouds form in the poet's sky, till there is no light and only truth. But there is honesty, In the darkest dark,

Shouldn't I expect a                        kiss     from you soon? Sugary wet, sultry and warm something like a semi-sweet chocolate          (monsoon)                 storm Douse and envelop me     then lap it all clean…. …kissing me everywhere     from deep in my dark, chocolate   coated     &#

   Mia drove around the block in her Chevy Malibu another time, taking note that the parking lot for the bar didn’t seem to appear that full. The moon had come out this Monday night. As she came around the corner again she pulled into a parking space on the side of the building nearest to entrance. Far away enough that no one would know one would notice her shoveling French fries from Mcdonalds into her mouth, but close enough that if she changed her mind, she had a short distance to run.     She turned up the radio in the car and turned on the air conditioning. Still having a single French fry in her mouth she checked in her mirror t

She's living in a one-bedroom apartment a few miles from campus. "You'll have to excuse the clutter," she says as she unlocks and opens the door. "Another thing I'm not used to is smaller living space." "It's cool," I say casually. The living room area is about half the size of Craig's and mine. There's a small couch, behind which is a stack of cardboard boxes. "Still unpacking," she admits somewhat sheepishly when she sees me eyeing them. "I was hoping to be completely moved in way before now but... college, you know? Gotta meet those deadlines." "Oh yeah, for sure," I reply. To the right is a kitchenette. There's no table, just a stove,

Sifting through these photographs Like looking through the safety-glass Of a favoured old car Rolling backwards through the days And I wonder where you are Around the bends of months and years Rain splatters, splashes, slides On the glass, the snow falls The windows cloud and clear of fog Through these windows I've seen it all Down back-road dreams and tree-lined streams I chase your wanton shadow And once I saw you sitting With your foot dipped in the shallow Where the damselflies were flitting Now naught but mayflies linger by the pools of wander-streams Floating by your toe-ripples Where the quick-fish get their fill

Twelve-o-five AM. A crashed car on the north side of town, a woman without her medicine on the south side. The two were as different as two people could be. Charles was young, white, wealthy, healthy. Carmen was old, black, poor, ill. When I wheeled them down to the morgue, they were equals. Nothing else mattered but that they were human, and those they left behind were equal in their grief. Two families were not going to sleep tonight. I had to wonder, how many people are equal with me in their hatred of their job?

We've Got Tonight I'm leaving tomorrow and you'll be staying here, we know it's what's best, but it don't mean we agree. There's tears on my pillow, there's pain in my heart. I've tried to be strong, but I'm falling apart. Then you pull me in and whisper so softly, the words that I love, but that I don't want to hear: “We've got tonight Who needs tomorrow We've got tonight, babe Why don't you stay?” I'm leaving this morning, and you're staying here I look out the window and see tears on your face I can't look behind me, it's too much to bear I have to keep moving or I'll come running back. So I close my eyes and remembe