The London Hours, 2012



should have taken one

picture as i walked in.

bed spread tight

all folded and straight


me dog tired .

before a long hot shower

cramped in one tomorrow


with everything i own .

spreaded wastly around

a colorful explosion .


i will walk around

picking up the pieces

stepping on geography .


not singing over maps

using a finger

to caress a route and  .


the thought of you

limping from hotel to hotel

and a sleeping bag


go away .

artists’ lives are messy

it’s a known fact .


the walls are disheveled

have i had some glue

to nail you there and there .


i will hop around happily

tattooing words about us

and hiding some

under letters



. .

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