That Special Something

There's something 
Different about her
I'm at a loss for words
Something special
Almost magic
Its something I might have heard

When she speaks
I always listen
To what she has to say
When she sings
My heart is filled
In the most mysterious way

When we walk 
Down the street
The tree lined boulevard
People stop, 
Point and stare
I find that rather odd

There's something 
Different about her
I'm at a loss for words
Something special
Almost magic
Its something I might have heard

Lantern Man

They say he is the Lantern Man
Some yell out "Jesus Christ"
He scares the living daylights
Out of everyone at night

Some say they see him every year
With his golden light
In Hackettstown and Blairstown
They heard stories of his plight

On earth he was a lantern man
Until he lost a limb
Now he hangs his lantern
On the hook that they gave him

His headstone in a country plot
Out near old route 46
Before the train hit his car
And he crossed the River Styx

Well, this is the last day of Dios de la Muerte, my favorite extension of Halloween. I mean – why not stretch it out three days? This year I have tried to combine surreal or dada influenced art with American Gothic stories – heavy on ghosts in ghost towns like Bodie, the Catholic Cemetery in Martinez and just imagined mannequins running amok on train tracks.

This is a true story – when I was in High School – near the M&M Mars factory – there was a train track and at night you could see the green glow of a swinging lantern with no person near it. I suspect it was an optical illusion – but it made for great fun and story telling. This is my version (or one of them anyway) . . ..

No Warning

She ran to the station
Feeling no pain
The party ran late
And so did the train

She ran cross the tracks
The shortcut to home
She almost made it
She let out a groan

The train couldn't stop
The midnight express
It couldn't give warning
The site was a mess

She now walks the tracks
In her party attire
And runs back and forth
Like a free ghostly flyer

Victorian Alien Love Jones

Buttered scones for tea
Cottage by the sea
She sets my spirit free
What she does for me

When we ride the train
People gawk and strain
Her beauty is so strange
They think that I'm deranged

With wheels for her feet
I roll her through the street
People stop and greet
Her love for me is sweet

You say she isn't real
Shes made of wood and steel
I'm not on an even keel
Now tell me how you really feel

Dawn of The Dead

Back from the dead
His eternal sleep
Corrupt Politicians
Are super creeps

They never leave
They want their soup
Its amazing how low
These creeps will stoop

They want it all
They want to be winners
At any cost
While the country simmers

Tombstone Radio

Its half past nightmare
On your radio dial
1930's ghost town jazz
Songs that make you smile

Hear the haunted archtop sound
And the steel guitar
Singer wails through carbon mic
You hear it in your car

As you drive across the land
Out in the desert night
Is it live or Memorex?
Chills run down your spine


The crackle of the radio
The sound of distant thunder
The thing that separated us
Let no man put asunder

We never had a bond between
We never had a fight
Never had much of anything
That seemed even close to right

People make mistakes they say
And you were one of mine
And now that you've gone missing
Its you they'll never find



I find myself
Thinking of her
And those golden days
Many years ago

I heard her voice
On the radio
I imagined she was mine
It was never meant to be

She sung
"Some Enchanted Evening"
I knew her desire
For me

Some say she's not real
She's just a chanteuse
But I know better
She's my Pumpkin

My little squash
And hearts desire
Alas my love
T'was just a dream

Phantom of the Underground

She's the phantom of the Underground
Earls Court Station
Doesn't make a sound
In her teleportation

She flits and flitters
Between speeding trains
Flies down the tubes
It seems so strange

Some say she fell
Onto the tracks
Lost her life
Many years back

She's only seen
On special occasions
Then disappears
Without explanation

General Parker

General Parker
Step right up
Step right in
Maga Lottery
You can Win!

General Parker
The Carnival Barker
Its You he owns

Act right now
Limited time offer
Invest in now
Your Corduroy Coffin

American Hucksters
The filthy rich
Treat the rest of us
Like sons of the bitch

General Parker is a new character of mine. He embodies all of the psychosis in America today. Plus he’s a skull who lives inside an old book from the 1930’s. What’s not to like?

General Parker is a Carnival Barker and part time Televangelist. He tries to use fear to get your attention. He’s not a billionaire, and in fact, is dead. He is running for President in 2024.