Monthly Archive: May, 2022

What is right, what is wrong? Dear Jennifer.. Part four.

What is right, what is wrong? Dear Jennifer.. Part four I awoke alone in the bed. I heard Jennifer and her baby in the shower. She left the bathroom door open and I… Continue reading

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What is right, what is wrong? Dear Jennifer. Part three.

What is wrong, what is right? Dear Jennifer. Part three. I arrived in Clinton, Michigan around twelve pm. I haven’t seen Jennifer since April 1987. The year 1991 is almost over and I… Continue reading

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What is right, what is wrong? Dear Jennifer, part two.

What is right, what is wrong? Dear Jennifer… Part two.. In 1991, I gave-up. I gave everything of value away and everything else to the trash. Two brother committed suicide, one in 1988… Continue reading

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What is right, what is wrong? dear Jennifer..

 What is right, what is wrong?  Part one, dear Jennifer… The orchards are blooming, my grandfather’s roses are almost ready. I sit near the river, drinking the black velvet whiskey alone and putting… Continue reading

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Delicate flower…

Delicate flower A Poem by Coyote Poetry  Some people and places are perfect. They are delicate flowers and perfect places.                                  Delicate flower.. I was a wore and torn man, receded into the whiskey… Continue reading

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I want to love you like…

  I want to love you like… I want to love you like we are babies just learning to love. I want you to undress with the lights on, allowing me to see… Continue reading

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The Chelsea hotel….

The Chelsea hotel A Poem by Coyote Poetry  I went to New York a few times. I stayed in the park and wrote poetry in the day and drank in the dark taverns at… Continue reading

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Do you know me?

Do you know me? Pretty girl sat by the motel window. She is watching the ocean and the coming storm from the western sea. She is drinking coffee and waiting for a reason… Continue reading

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Bad love…

 Bad love I felt the darkness of the night overtaking the lights of the day. Stealing away the gentleness that is left in me. The once sweet memories had turn to a cancer.… Continue reading

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La petite mort

She was a portrait of beauty.Her love was locked away, waiting for the perfect man and the gentle embrace. She asked me. Was any kindness or good left in me? I told her.… Continue reading

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