You can't run away
from the world.

casual hope

I find myself waiting

and it is a foolish thing to do.

Every moment is one deeper

into night,

it's promises of sleep,

made and broken,

to everyone

at some time.

Any answer

would be fine,

but I don't expect any

at this hour.

Needless thinking,

needless waiting,

a futile hope,

one that will never

learn any better.

a human expectation

There is no face

free of joy or hardship. 

unthinkable loss

Without beauty
we would perish.

Nothing could
be sustained

in this world
without it.

We would
whither

slowly and
sadly

from the
knowledge

of what
had been lost.

simple chatter

looking for an excuse to speak

to find anyone willing to listen

you absorb the silence around you

an uneasy peace

ears ring with the sound of crickets 

calling to one another

a stream of simple thought

reading

Eyes are honest

to a fault.

Street Light

smoke fills the car
parked in the street

far from street lamps

the music is loud enough
their voices just audible

they begin to kiss

a sweet taste
a sweet smell

breath fogging glass

the music is loud enough
soon could be louder

Blurring

I texted C. to find out
if it was true about M.
She texted that it was.
I asked if M. was ok. As good
as she was going to get, she said.
C. and I were meeting that night
in downtown to get some drinks.
I always thought she was amazingly
beautiful, the kind of beauty
you couldn't help but think about
over and over. There was never
any real chance for the two of us
to go beyond our established norm
and that was fine. I loved her company.
We ended up meeting an hour later
than we had planned but given
the circumstances, understandable.
I told her I would be sitting out back
when she arrived.

She set her purse on the table.
Are you ok, I asked.
Yeah, she said as she reached
for my pack of cigarettes.
I pulled out my lighter
and flicked it to life,
just below the tip.
C. and M. were very close,
they were family.
M.'s life was inversely
proportional to her beauty.
She was never content until
the candles were a melted
waxy mess.

I don't know what else I can do
about her. I love her so much
but she keeps doing this.
I worry but I don't know if I can
keep this up. It's exhausting.

She looked away and took
a long drag and held it in.
I told her I'd be right back,
that I was going to get us
some drinks.

As I waited for the bartender
to bring me my pint of beer
and her whiskey coke (her drink
of choice), I thought about
all the times I had been around M.
I first met her at a birthday party
for C. a number of years back.
She wore fishnet stockings
that rode up under a clinging
leopard print dress.
We both got drunk that night
and chatted away.
I was smitten. I asked
for her number, she gave it.

I took the drinks back to our table.
C. was fidgeting with her phone.
Any new news, I said.
No, she said.
We held our drinks and I said,
to better days.

M. and I eventually wound up
going out not too long after.
I remember picking her up
from her apartment
and seeing her walk out
in a beautiful mod dress.
I had never had a woman
carry herself with such determined
confidence. She would tell me
soon after that she was not ready
to date anyone so soon after a breakup.
It may have been true
but I think it was her way
of rejecting me without having
to be unkind. In any case,
I appreciated the lie.

After a few more drinks
and a few more hours
C. asked me,
do you think M. will be ok?
I mean, not just after this,
but in the long run,
do you think she'll be fine?

I looked at her, too drunk
to be anything but honest.
I don't know
but I hope so, I said.
I hope so.

When I wake 
you're still a dream.

Maisy

She could not bring herself to cry
when she thought about
the last few months
and everything that happened.

The lamp next to the chair
was on. It was 11p.m.
She sat down and kicked off
her shoes, it startled the cat.

Maisy leaped into her lap,
circled, and nuzzled her.
She took the rings off
of her hand and set them

at the base of the lamp.
She brought her hand
softly onto Maisy's fur.
Her lungs expanded

as she inhaled deeply,
and paused before letting
the breath out. She repeated
this until her eyes began

to tear at the corners.
The drops hesitated before
allowing themselves to descend,
one by one, they became

a steady river. Maisy waited,
knowing the moment would pass,
knowing a deeper truth
that no purr could ever convey.

Narcissus

they post pictures

of their beauty

not knowing it will pass

Myth & Fact

Perfection is a non-
existent state.

It's attainment, myth.

Death is constant,
endless, impartial,

a transition, to what?

Silly me, silly you,
silly, fretful creatures.

They/We

She and He

are wondering 

what to do

where to go

what to see

where to be

She and He

could be

you and me

wandering

We could be

They, They

could be any

one, could be

someone right

now, certainly

are somewhere.

growing up

All the beauty you'll never have
was never yours to mourn

All the lips you'll never kiss
were never yours to taste

loosen your grasp
free it completely
let your palm feel wind

A Constant Amnesia

Memory is a malleable thing

before it is forgotten altogether.

The ghosts of our former selves 

have no place left to haunt. 

Wandering until rebirth,

another chance to forget. 

Shaping Space

Sapped

Emptied

I pour myself into a chair

and try to find

whatever words remain


Tired

how tired

I've become

or has my spirit

exhausted itself

The Faded Colossus

vast

a distance we cannot cross


exchanging a longing gaze


the chasm grows wider

Body Images

I.
Spare Parts For Broken Hearts


II.
Tears Of The Body

Interruption

The night air streamed steadily

through the slightly rolled down window.

He was using his coat as a blanket,

body reclined in the seat.

It was still dark outside-

too late to be early, 

too early to be late.

A few hours earlier 

he had planned on going home

but found himself

giving in to the twins

of exhaustion and intoxication. 

It was still enough to hear the hum

of street lights and power lines,

he passing cars of the nearby 

freeway sounded like faint waves

from a fading dream. 

He righter himself and looked around,

there was no one.

With the keys in the ignition

the engine sputtered back to life.

He coughed.

The seatbelt clicked, was fastened tight.

Release the parking brake,

shift into drive.

cycles

everything is lost

and gained

over and 

over and

over

I, the Vessel

My soul is a shiftless creature
tanning its skin on my lawn.

It dreams of cloud kingdoms
and the succession of royalty-

wonders what name it would take
 if it ascended to power.

My soul comes home
when I have gone to bed.

It doesn't say much
when it comes home late.

It likes to leave early in the morning
before I have gotten out of bed.

I have told it to look for a job
but it scoffs at the idea.

A Soul? With a job?
Such a ludicrous thought.

We love each other
but can often be at odds.

When I walk through the forest,
light streaking between branches,

we marvel at our fortune,
the privilege of being.

A Night in Fragments

I.

Honor the struggle.

II.

My will turns to ash.

III.

Your life is only as interesting

as you are willing to make it.

IV.

The open mouth scream

of freeway wind

rushing through 

rolled down windows

V.

It is easy to feel

a great loneliness

late at night

while others sleep

unaware of the ills

that keep us awake.

VI.

everything fails in time.

VII.

I can hear its beat

though we are not

in the same space

VIII.

the green light flickers

turns red

then green once more

then red

flickers at a pace

faster than you eyelids

IX.

I have left the light on

for you.

X.

mangled fingers

the scarred flesh

of the forearm

a visible history

XI.

table kalimba

always ready for a touch

singing silver tongues

XII.

How can we call it love?

XIII.

truth in fragmentation

XIV.

yield nothing

XV.

He is as hollow

as a chocolate 

easter bunny

XVI.

let's not call it love

let's not call it anything

let's call

let's talk

let's let go

XVII.

useless machinery

a soul in transit

lost between two points

XVIII.

you can't go to sleep

you don't even bother

Dreams dissipate as eyes begin to blink

through daylight.