I’m one of those typical married-something guys – adorned with wife, kids, dogs and yard – that may live alongside of you, snuggled inside your precious culdesac, a nameless citizen of your manicured enclave, with the requisite 4-5 caffeinated meth labs (aka Starbucks) within a stone’s throw — yet I’m galvanized by my life’s work, blessed with friends from around the globe, seasoned from voyages, encounters, triumphs and major/minor fuck ups of twoscore+ years, a walking contradiction of sorts (given I’d rather be clawing my days through the East Village, but we make and embrace our choices as they come – no regrets) , and, now, I feel it’s time to share my musings, thoughts, travails, rawness and scribal backlog through my new digital aperture, under the nom de plume of Suburban Lovechild: on one hand, demographic familiarity and comfort, and on the other, the glowing darkness of forbidden yet unregrettable love.
I'm finding myself
Inside many sanguine moods
Inside many inviting worlds
All in anticipation
...
If love was a forest
I tip toe the climb through its beating heart
There is lost love, the dry deaf leaves
Strewn ground high and spread thick with utility
...
What I miss most from my youth
The spontaneous, combustible
Unaccountable insanity to
Will, thrill myself and others
...
I nearly took my life today,
No knife or rope or gun,
Instead, the weapon was the truth,
The bleeding has begun,
...