Richard Lighthouse

when irrelevant seems germane

how can you be such an ass?

this seems like an imperative,
when in fact, it is an artistic
statement,
preceded by years
of training and practice.

clean the garage or no sex tonight.

this also seems an impending allegation,
lacking germane context, but in fact
it is more precise than any
weather forecast. accented with glare
and condescending tone.


where the hell have you been?

can best be described as a philosophical
premise, stuck between capitalism and
socialism. an adventure in remembrance.


i usually respond:
where's the remote?

---

my muse

"Write me a fucking poem," she says with a why-not look.
How come you never write me a fucking poem? I'm your bad-ass muse,
Remember? That's what you said!


No - what I said was - you give a bad-ass blow job . . .
and that inspires me.

So my blow jobs inspire you, huh? Does that mean you love me?

Only when the sun goes down, baby. It's all about the sun.

You're an ass!, she spouts.

But I'm the ass you love, baby. I'm your favorite ass.

Yeah, maybe, she concedes. Maybe.


Then pausing long enough to swallow the space between us,
She coyly adda,
So when exactly, does the sun go down

around here?




Richard Lighthouse is a contemporary writer and poet. He holds an M.S. from Stanford University. His work has been published in numerous journals and magazines worldwide.