Because society has us zipping along on our heels

From one sale to the next, until we finally keel over

With our tongues slack from our mouths,

And our ever clutching fingers

In an unhealthy confidence with

Credit cards, and I-phones...

Like the old west gunslingers

Or a prohibition rumrunner

Who's been shot down where he stands...

....This is why we have an Open Mic.

Because there use to be a place you could talk to people!...

Because you have to be homeless,

Or a dog tied up to a tree to see the world

Like it really is,

Or else your just going through the motions...

Cooking up some half-crazed notion

From the outside looking in...

It's a game of sink or swim...

And no one here gets out alive...

...This is why we have an Open Mic.

Because Poetry is our last defense...

Because Palestinians are being shot in the face

While we decide which pose to take

In the ever growing comedic nightmare

Which is our U.S. Head of State...

It's like America's Funniest Home Videos

On tranqs, because everyone's too scared

To react, or has forgotten how to...

As we tumble down the cracks, and haunted halls...

We must decide which rock to cling to,

Because there is no turning back...

...This is why we have an Open Mic.

So raise all voices high!...

Speak your truths!...

Draw down the energies

From the harvest moon,

As that great Blood Moon casts

Her shadow on our backs...

And the lies that we've been steeped in

Will surely make us ill

If we stand still...

Don't let controllers in...

We must ignite!...

...This is why we have an Open Mic!...

9/15/25

Bunny Villaire

Aren’t we all just hanging on

By a loosely woven thread?…

As the heat rises from the

George Foreman grill

All the searing words I’ve said

Which I’ve maintained are sound theories

Are only linchpins to my cause

To keep my head atop the waters

As my soused heart

Drops the ball…

There’s a man who walks his bike around…

Every possession on his back…

He pauses here and there on benches

He lies beyond your daily sight…

Today you’ll pass him at a quick clip…

He’s lying dormant to the right…

When News Reporters capture on site News,

Making molehills out of sand…

You might see him slowly migrate

Holding a parcel in his hands…

Notice the wrinkles under both eyes, and on

The outskirts of his lips…

They go deeper then you could ever know…

His lids are pinched tight, as he shifts,

And gesticulates wildly

At an object in the sky…

Notice the clothing!…

The bleached apparel!…

At times we glance, then pass him by…

He is telling a bygone story…

That holds a key to what’s mislaid…

When he maps out answers in the heavens

Will you still look the other way,

Or see life within the margins

Where the grit and

Rubies flows?…

Aren’t we all just hanging on

By a loosely woven thread?…

As the heat rises from the

George Foreman grill

All the searing words I’ve said

Which I’ve maintained are sound theories

Are only linchpins to my cause

To keep my head atop the waters

As my soused heart

Drops the ball…

9/8/25

Bunny Villaire

In the darkness a man lays,

His back against the stone…

He has been chained to a wall

For so long

He’s lost all sense of right or wrong,

But someone’s rolled the rock away

And now pours in the light of day…

His eyes adjust to a silhouette…

She beckons him to the sunset…

He sees her and he mouths the words

For water, as she

Shares her pouch…

Within the dying rays of light

A man and woman step tonight…

They walk so elegant and true…

Their passion builds with every step

Allowing the wild cats to roam…

Curiosity takes them far from home…

Hunting down the nighttime nectarine

Out from the sky…

Man’s mad focus on these crowd of ants…

Clawing for the ravens empty prize…

A passing truck could just strike us down

Like bowling pins in line at any time…

But were hunting down the nighttime nectarine

Out from the sky…

Stolen breaths blur out my eyes

The city map is set on fire…

The blessings fall like berries into hungry lips

And sight denies just what it sees,

Forgets the miracles...

I pick up threads within manifolds…

Total recall taking hold and dancing me

Outside my skin…

Seek a final resolution

To the person that I've been…

Hunting down the nighttime nectarine

Out from the sky…

You are the women that I’ve dreamed,

The soft redeemer…

Dancing in a silent circle

I allow you in my garden so we both

May drink and swim

From the silver waters of this

Ponderous oasis…

Will it be here to greet us

In the morning?...

Hard to say…

Hunting down the nighttime nectarine

Out from the sky…

8/18/25

Bunny Villaire

For: Mavia

She slips between the shadow beams,

And with each move

Staccato shrieks reflected off

Metallic tops

As she goes on

This power walk

Strategic as her search for cover

Aims to hide a pretty face…

Pools of dark pour down through trees…

Like rats perpetuate disease

All bars, locked schools, and swollen stores

Have closed the temporal portal where

The mice are trained to run this maze

To snatch a prize from softened hands

Who built the project all to scale

All part of some cruel butcher’s plan…

The shells of business pale behind

As heels go slap with quickened pace…

There are so few upon her trek…

Hot eyes burn through her where she’s seen…

With sense of awe, and naked lust,

But by the time they think to rush

And spill her soft-skinned applecart…

She jumps and dives like there’s a song

That plays to guide her to her truth…

So few can see it; walking aloof…

…Bang into walls affixed to schemes

Always a woman on the scene…

Night Flower fragrant with her sense

Of diving off assembly lines…

The men who thought she could be bought

Are now forsaken by their shrine

That they assumed had just conked out…

By fools with options to foreclose…

But like a bat that won’t stay boxed

She only fits the modeled pose…

All of the rest has been thrown off…

She never leaves a ringing trace!…

Just like ascetics with barbed belts

The cities clock is losing face,

And while she wavers through the dark

Into another haunted park

She finds a loophole in the dusk…

Evaporates with morning dew…

The hands upon the clock has stopped…

The night-tide takes her by the hand…

She slips between the shadow beams,

And with each move

Staccato shrieks reflected off

Metallic tops

As she goes on

This power walk

Strategic as her search for cover

Aims to hide a pretty face…

Pools of dark pour down through trees…

Like rats perpetuate disease

All bars, locked schools, and swollen stores

Have closed the temporal portal where

The mice are trained to run this maze

To snatch a prize from softened hands

Who built the project all to scale

All part of some cruel butcher’s plan…

7/30/25

Bunny Villaire

Pick a limb to hang up your hide!...

Sink or swim...

Tonight's when we fly!...

For now we may dream...

For then we may die...

Pick a limb to show what's inside...

There's a time at night when

All you can hear

Are incessant buzzes

Of Angst Ants with spears...

Poking and prodding

Until you dry out...

Picked apart by

Diaphanous doubt...

Always a soft spot

Where we can recline...

Though life seems perilous...

Down comes a line...

Out in this pool...

In this ponderous pit

Where we thrash around

Like we're locked in a fit

Hugging the rung...

Very much like a bird...

Out on a limb while

The wind does it's worst...

Pick out a limb to hang up your hide!...

Sink or swim...

Tonight's when we fly!...

For now we may dream...

For then we may die...

Pick out a limb to show what's inside...

7/21/25

Bunny Villaire

A bulging puff ball

Of puckered muted flesh

Moves with a luminesce

Like a ghost swan glides

Over rippling waves of a lake

At the height of the witching hour…

For the god who hides

Between the leaves…

For the god who skirts the sky…

...The god who stands

Behind the tree…

For the god who won't reply…

The undeserving night

Takes my naked raked

Leaf pile flesh

In yawning jaws and bites down,

Inhaling a starling,

And two gnats

As it devours me whole…

Here I go!...

Bye bye my fellow earthlings!...

See you later alligators!...

No safety net, and all

Weight is divided evenly

Beneath the

Black tape of

The nights ethereal

Boundaries…

For the god who hides

Between the leaves…

For the god who skirts the sky…

...The god who stands

Behind the tree…

For the god who won't reply…

Out here beyond the picture frame

Where body politics seems paramount

But is really only smokescreen

I dip and dive like Nureyev

Into the sweet caress and solace

Of the swinging Jazz head swivel…

A permanent smile fades in and out

From the figure within a row of trees…

It is beyond the confines of sex

Expectations…

Touch it with me as wings flutter around me,

And the buzzing of insects fills the ears

Of imagined flesh that vanishes

Within the womb of ceaseless night…

7/17/25

Bunny Villaire

Edit #4

Freaks out on the margins...

Sleep borders the eye...

Patrols follow their functions

Never questioning the 'why'...

We are out here picking

Through the dirt...

"Let's persecute the outliers

And buy our King sometime..."

The desert heat is still beating down...

There are stockpiles of excuses,

And their dying on this vine

Like the babies dying in the womb

Of a cropper being dusted...

All the tables have retreated now...

While our locks appear more rusted...

We have made our beds...

Foreigners have fled...

Now we're left here in the gloom...

Watch the dustbowl howl

All around us now

Like we're sealing up our tomb...

Pa is waving us inside...

There's a storm on the horizon...

Freaks out on the margins...

Sleep borders the eye...

Patrols follow their functions

Never questioning the 'why'...

Our old cow just pitched forward

Last night...

It was dead before it hit the ground...

Everyone is on the menu...

I see famine in your soul!...

There's a yearning to release a truth...

And a fear of letting go...

Some strange residue has

Settled on the windows...

This microphone hangs like a

Paint brush

Dipped inside a cloud of gas...

This mare's tail...

This murk of fog

Could be the next big blast...

There's a howling from the hills...

Take a sip out of the void,

And tell us now

Just what you see!...

...Are their tranquil sights?...

Or ruinous tears

Running down the

Panty hose

Of space?...

Everyone has powers

Of observation...

We are untold Oracles

Who speak unchaste...

Say something now!....

Spell it out!...

Say it proud!...

Or batten the hatches

And wait to die...

7/10/25

Bunny Villaire

Whenever I try to be

More then the asking price

In relation to you...

Whenever I break this mold...

Whenever I write this code...

I don't see no silhouette...

And the sun hasn't risen yet...

I feel like I've won the fight

Against the world's

Sweeping virus!...

...It's just me and my faculties

Hanging out on the line!...

My skin has that offshore scent,

Hairs prickle like fiber tents...

Blood makes it's own anti-bodies...

Yea, I run my own factory!...

And the criminal parasites

Don't have a clearance pass,

And though rodents scuttle through

I'm still taking chances!...

Yea, this dance ain't no

Power play!...

I'm here on the up and up,

And the shoulders

I rub against

Get a juiced potency...

Whenever I try to be

More then the asking price

In relation to you...

Whenever I break this mold...

Whenever I write this code...

I don't see no silhouette...

And the sun hasn't risen yet...

I feel like I've won the fight

Against the world's

Sweeping virus!...

It can't just be lucky draw...

I'm holding my monkey paw...

The corner you chased me in

Had it's blemish exposed...

So I jump over razor wire,

And I double back to my lot...

All the pleasures you've offered me

Only give off a sour scent...

I can't put on that service smile...

I must leave you in dust my child...

...Whenever I try to be

More then the asking price

In relation to you...

7/7/25

Bunny Villaire

To all the voiceless Surrenderist...

...Merely numbers on a sheet!...

Your bones make kissy squelching yelps

For the grinders of the meat...

A man with less respect for life

Than an Earthmover run amuck...

Has burned and stripped our world for lucre...

We're out here standing in his wake...

He's bombed another country!...

Iran has children,

And to those that may survive

We will owe them eternally

For all the evils of our kind...

The cards are laying on the tarmac...

The writings dripping from the wall...

We can't pretend that this is normal...

As institutions slip and fall

And hope's and dreams slip through the cracks

On the way to work each day...

With less and less reaction time...

From people who get paid

To promise all the hanging Chad's

Who make up the faceless polls...

The Heidi's, and the Alejandro's...

The Jakub's, and the Amir's...

The Malika's and the Zuri's...

The new babies every year...

Families living in their ranch-style homes,

Or tenement dwellers who live day to day,

Or drifters on the sidewalk

Who pass in solitary ways...

We are more then just cruel fodder!...

Though I am sure from steely eyes

While flying his big-ticket

Air Force One

We look like ants that he must

Strategize

To factor in to his assumption

That he must consummate his gain...

To become a King that tosses gestures

That offer little more than stink

From his crude, indecent fingers...

He'll be pacing in a room...

If we choose to sustain our silence

It will be a coastal tomb,

And blackened balls on frozen stalks

From the last insects left alive

Will be his final audience of onlookers,

If hearts and voices choose to die...

Will it be...business as usual?...

Will we lay...down on our backs?...

Will we walk...with both our hands tied?...

Will we close...our eyes to facts?...

Will it be...business as usual?...

Will we let...our faucets dry?...

Will we stop...helping the one's in need?...

Will we halt...pausing to cry?...

6/27/25

Bunny Villaire

They look down from their sprawling place

High in the truck,

Barely watch as I scramble

Never flinching too much...

They have taken this job, and they

Come to the call,

But beyond that they don't aim...

Only flies on a wall...

Though they crush without thought

They hold wheels they must turn...

In the teeth of the gears

It grows hard to discern

If I blame their control

Or my own foolish state...

Far too large for the burden...

Their future uncertain,

But certainly falls

Past the realm of the small...

Much too big to be blamed

As they watch me with eyes

That have gone dull from privilege...

Their lobster stalks dry

At the point that the optics transmit

To the skull...

Much too big to blamed...

Ours is flesh that they cull,

And muscle they tame,

But it's all just so easy...

Like reflex they squander us...

Only waste what is pleasing...

6/6/25

Bunny Villaire