Mekong Delta Blues

All the late-night half-baked free associations that's fit to print.

Amplified Fire


Corpse walk four city blocks
Posed in throes for the stares
Each step a stair ascended
Worn soles tread intrepid paths
Forty-five degree angled back
Lids drawn deny each passerby
Those fearless mirrors never lie

Coke y More


Arose At Dusk
In Waste Of Haze
And Palpitating
Elbows Bent
And Neck Craned
Bound By Chains
In Hades

Like So Many Frayed Ropes


There’s one building downtown
Where smoke billows gold against 
The unchanging blue sky
And it reminds me of winters back home
The rows of homes with chimneys
Puffing like chain-smokers
From October through April
Each exhalation perpetuating
The world’s dull monochrome
And broken branches swing low
Scraping the muddy earth
Like so many frayed ropes
…I loathe that one building downtown



Like a criminal whose days on the run have come to an end, I have been collared.

Grand Expanse


Look don’t
Lose your
Bright lights
For miles
Stay here
Rest up
Your time
Is now

Bury Me


Should the morning come and I not rise
Bury me where the dog used to
Hide all her roasted marrow bones
Beneath a thin layer of fresh dirt
Enough to feel the sun’s warmth
Showers of rain and snow
And the kiss of a child’s shoe
As he trips over me, skinning his knees



Skin the color of creosote
Flecked and peeling
Summer’s patina

Eyes like malachite
Flecked with ice
Send shivers down spines

Familiar inklings
Bubble and burst
Dramatic re-enactments

Above The Foam


She brought me to the sunset
Fiery eyes, lips, and hair
Careless, hung me out to dry
Doubt festering and ugly
Sand dune pillow so cold
Keeps me above the foam

We Don’t Talk About That Place Anymore


The address on the back of the envelope, written in blue ballpoint, all loops and curls and cursive trills, was water stained and faded by age. I could close my eyes and blank my mind and see the numbers illuminated above your front door. 

We don’t talk about that place anymore.