each evening my commute veers west
patti smith keeps me company
jesus died for somebody’s sins
it’s just right god-damnit
day drifting
to san francisco bay
night creeping up behind
over the great plains
me on interlocken loop
poured silver sky drips from
the rockies in old-tire black
who could make this picture
ansel adams couldn’t shake a polaroid at it
maybe andre sorrano has the gas
the whole thing has a piss christ vibe
and i’m too dim to explain why
bob mapplethorpe’s ansel adams dream
America, cars, cook, death, desperate, desperation, discomfort, drink, drugs, drugs and alcohol, ease, Fiction, food, gender, haiku, happiness, home, hope, humans, husband, jail, lessons, love, lovers, man, men, messy, nature, nude, one night stand, our time, our town, peace, people, poem, Poems, poet, poetry, poets, power, punk, punk rock, sadness, secrets, sheep, shit, suicide, symbols, the west, time, truth, Up all night, voyeur, vulnerability, vulnerable, work, writing
About Me
A poet-chef living in Denver, Co. I use the orange Aquafresh toothpaste, off brand mouthwash, and those little floss picks.
Daniel E Haislet 
Leave a comment