czvasser Fried Chicken

Conversations Overdue

czvasser's avatarCommunity Greens

Ruth_VasserPresident Lyndon B. Johnson pulled up his shirt to show the press his scar from gall bladder surgery. The resulting photo sent the world into shock. How could any decent person, let alone the president, expose himself in such a way publicly. There was certainly lots of indignation about the event.

Today there is so many outrageous personal photos online his actions wouldn’t even be noticed. For instance, stories of the nude photos of the wife of Donald Trump, a presidential aspirant, surfaced a week ago and barely raised eyebrows albeit the photos were 10 years old.

I grew up in an era when the rule was, “If you don’t have anything good to say, don’t say anything”. Nowadays, everyone is an Imus-type shock jock. Everyone is trying to say or do something more attention getting than the next person. People live to go viral

People do intentionally bad things while they…

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czvasser Fried Chicken

The Hitman in the Hallway

united-in-diversity-logoSiamese crocodile left breast
rises like an afterlife
and falls taking buckets of time.

Eye-beams through the keyhole
Gotham on the ground calling for super heroes
to repair the damages of democracy.

Breath huddles inside brown paper bags
until the count reaches someone missing
then the ready or not begins.

The bedroom turns anticlockwise
to match
the crystal knob’s protection.

Lotioned hand holds spoons of demise
and projectiles of painful alternatives.

Cut umbilicals leave pools of aftermath
quicksand that becomes acne on the face of god.

Unintended thoughts told frantically
to curved lovers
are braided into hangman’s rope
leaving petechial hemorrhage.

The boogeyman here now
has greater weight here after
prayers, spells and talismans
imperfect protection
against the hitman in the hallway.

czvasser Fried Chicken

A Meal Unfinished

Leave the glass
There is an impression
Her lips left
And a ticklish swallow of escapees.

Leave the plate
Her vegetables are
Always after 9
Her fork tines on the rim
Her knife under it
She steals silver spoons.

Yes, leave it
She may come back
After she has danced a bit
After powder in her nose
She may need to sit
A whirlwind to begin
A dervish in the end

Coffee and desert
Why
Yes
She likes a little sweet
And new meat
Sorbet a particular treat
Foreplay
The waiter brings the tray
A new meal
kisses to steal
Numbers exchanged
In a bathroom hallway.

Leave the fork
There is a morsel more
Needs to be impaled
A meal unfinished
Could become first
Course to love or less.