michael caine

it's the middle of the morning

when you woke me up

you kissed me with your legs wide open

and that bright light I saw

wasn't the sun

we're traveling

toward the day when you tell me

you're done

moving on.

we'll chat

and I'll tell you that I love you.

you tell me I'm great guy

and you'll close your legs

and move into the darkness

and when my lungs finally collapse

you won't be at my wake

and you won't be on my mind

you'll be someone's else blinding light

The engineers club of odessa

I was eight or nine.
I saw sviatoslav richter
perform his first recital
at the engineers club of odessa

it was long before the genius was crushed
by an unrelenting state
and an unloving mother
unable to push past their inherent flaws

and every so often
until the curtain finally fell on everything
I would slink into the back row
of the engineers club of odessa

and dream of talent and genius
hoping to see a glimpse of it again
maybe this time we'll just let it be
the road to middle management is littered with men with morgages