Anticipation

I get a feeling I’ll do something big today.

I can taste it in the tea

when the idea begins to take shape–

a three-masted frigate out of the fog,

Better than the anticipation

of your long fingers and heat.

Look now.

I can see the figurehead,

Full-breasted and fresh-painted,

and there, just ahead,

a giant tentacle rises

to fondle her oaken curves.

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Untitled, 2007

I found this in a journal I wrote in Baghdad during the “Surge.”

In Mesopotamia the god is angry,
The air stinks and the dogs are mangy.
Eye-for-eye and hand-for-hand,
And the blood of the people soaks the land.
From deep inside the Green Zone’s walls,
Send Hershey bars and soccer balls
to soothe angry fathers’ hearts
while they police the body parts.