8 pm you sang in the kitchen midnight you crooned in the hallway 3 am you soloed in the kitchen 6:30 am you’re in the living room, why not wind it down rest for tomorrow’s performance as the soft light of morning creeps under the sofa, chasing darkness off the dusty lint a perfect mattress to spread your limbs and gather a pillow for your head let the brightness begin to weigh down the lids on your eyes sleep and dream your music lures a beautiful woman to the moment sh

on scorching summer mornings my walk is often quiet, empty of movement except for ants, as we crisscross on the sidewalk, they on a tight schedule to harvest meals for the day while I watch them gather the goods we don’t stop to chat, rarely do, they’re too busy and I’m just passing until I throw my shadow over them and their fields of concrete then they stop what they’re doing, wondering if the silhouette is a cloud’s or something more sinister, dangerous, closer t

I admit, I love knocking on the door of a person’s soul, watching it open and being welcomed in the warmth behind my speech, my interesting play of words, gets me invited in quite often though I’ve made the mistake of teasing a touchy wound or joking about something too personal, forgetting that my spicier wit should stop once I’m inside, its purpose already complete real conversation should be next more hot tea, less fizzy drinks leaving the foyer for a sit-down, a r