Itasca Illinois Poetry & Willow Tree Dreams

Poems: Michael Lee Johnson

Hookers on Archer Avenue

By Michael Lee Johnson (Version 3)

Late evening, early morning,
I search the night for whores,
young, bloody with desire.
Night streets are silent streets
accept for hookers and their Johns.
One wants the dart of groins
the other green eyes in dollar
sacred treasures
snatch the wallet, a consecrated craft.
Both hit the streets quickly
satisfy needs quickly.

I’m an old buck now rich with memories
more than movement, still talk, take porn shots,
with a peeking eye, snoop around
department store corners,
and dumpy old alleyways.
My hair is gray, my teeth eroding,
thoughts toward prayer
A.M. Catholic Mass,
then off in early morning
to the mailbox, a lethargic walk,
I pick up my social security check
comforts my needs.

Evening settles into bed time
with a western romance novel,
ambushes, excitement,
old transgressions stretch
and relax.

No desires, homage
to the day, to the night.


Leaves in December
By Michael Lee Johnson

Leaves, a few stragglers in
December, just before Christmas,
some nailed down crabby
to ground frost,
some crackled by the bite
of nasty wind tones.

Some saved from the matchstick
that failed to light.
Some saved from the rake
by a forgetful gardener.

For these few freedom dancers
left to struggle with the bitterness:
wind dancers
wind dancers
move your frigid
bodies shaking like icicles
hovering but a jiffy in sky,
kind of sympathetic to the seasons,
reluctant to permanently go,
rustic, not much time more to play.



Denny E. Marshall lives in the Midwest and has had art and poetry recently published.

The poet now has over 90 videos on YouTube-here are a few:

sleep anywheress

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