small

Where would we be 

without small 

acts of kindness?

Observe / d

The forest peers over the cliff
while the gray and black sky
looks down, wondering what
dreams the sleeping creatures
see as their bodies turn in fits.

The ocean speaks in waves
that no one can decode. Smooth
rock are unreliable in their
translations because their 
minds have grown soft.

A small fire is extinguished 
by frigid wind. A deer moves
cautiously towards the tide
and wonders how such 
language is possible.

Settling my debts and sorrow

I'm not coming back tomorrow.

Honest Man,

what lies have you heard?

Psychic Realtor

The psychic realtor went of business, though, 
she used to be pretty good at her job. It was
a tough economy in those years.

Arrow's Pace

A Lie & A Truth

I don't miss you anymore

but I still think about you

all the time.

variants

1.)
Negotiating in a mine field.

2.)
Negotiating in a mind field.

Not Trying

This sentence 

will convince

no one about 

anything.

Sanitarium Cigarettes

Lessened

Christ on a cross, nailed to the dirty beige wall,
looking over the bed, His pierced side bleeding,
frozen in posed agony.

He hadn't prayed to God, to Christ, in years.
He hadn't asked for the Virgin Mary, or any
of the saints to intercede on his behalf since,

well, who knows how long. That's a lie. He
remembers the last time. His mother dying
in a hospital, his father already dead.

When his father died his mother began to pray
as much as she could, began going to mass
every day. She was retired, it helped her,

but he couldn't help thinking of her as foolish.
Couldn't she see that he was never coming
back and no one was listening?

The doctors had told her it was just a matter
of time. She prayed more and more, wielding
faith as a defense against inevitability. He didn't

know why he kept Christ on his wall through all
of it. Perhaps, it reminded him of being a child,
thinking there had to be something better out there,

that enduring the cruelty of existence paid a greater
dividend. He remembers placing her favorite rosary
in her hands. He remembers time standing still.

Fall in love

Fall

into life.

When Sunday is Friday

The week ends
with a few beers
and shots of well-whiskey
poured down
my throat.

It's a small effort
to drown
the sounds of the rambling
stream of my consciousness.

I hear my own voice
echoing back
at me.

I don't know what
to do but

search for silence.

Inevitable Endings

Every love story 

becomes a ghost story 

when given enough time.

Now I fall

with determined

inevitability.

Venus Dejected

She was fucked up when I saw her sitting at the bar.
I could see her eyes flash with awareness when she
noticed it was me.  She slurred, "H e y, i t 's y o u!"
as she turned and placed her arms around me. I"d
never seen her so sloppy so early in the evening. I
couldn't see her with anyone. Just a broken-hearted
angel slumming it on a barstool with a drink resting
on the counter. I put my arms around her and felt
the scent of alcohol rise to my senses with no effort.
She said things had been a little rough but that she
was alright. Her boyfriend had broken up with her
recently, or perhaps it was the other way around.

I stopped keeping track of her relationships after
a while. I wanted to be one of them once. She put
me down gently, nor have I forgotten it. I can still
see the dress she was wearing the night I took her
out. I've never been one for fashion but I was made
greatly aware of my stylistic shortcomings that night.

It took her a moment to find her footing when she
stood. Her tight white shirt revealed the form of her
curves, normally perfectly proportioned, widening
out past their usual places. The corners of her eyes
were dams ready to burst, ready to overrun irises
that spoke of experience and secret oaths uttered
during frenzied reminders of the present.

I told her it was great seeing her, that it had been
too long. It had. I needed to get my things from
the car. She sat back down onto the stool. I made
sure she was safely settled before I walked out.
Our other friends were minutes away. I stepped
through the doors and stood there for a moment.
Cars rushed by and the air felt colder than usual.

befriending strangers

without ever meeting

why ruin the illusion

of intimacy

Every death is little.

The Escape From Eternity

I don't want your song

to be a memory 

of the you I've known.

Away

Veins open with ease

Pulsing life pools in water

Sleep comes easily

Of Bourbon

A brown river flows

Blood thins with uncanny ease

Draw curtains over eyes

Tears

Bows move across strings

Soul swelling with crescendos

Salted water moves

Sleepless Haiku

When I cannot sleep

Worry wanders between my eyes

Hands gripping blanket

Ghost Collector

Some of the ghosts in my car have been there
from the start, others are recent tenants.

A few have left tokens to remind me
of our time once they have moved on.

A polaroid picture, handprints on the
windshield, a Valentine's card, an old lighter.

I could dispose of these things but they
have ceased to be mere objects.

The distances I have traveled are measured
by more than the ascending odometer

or the progressively tattered upholstery.
These ghosts don't wish to be forgotten,

they want to live on, even if just for a moment
every now and then.

Tona-Tiuh (Round, Hot, Pulsating)

Who was the first person
to think that human sacrifice
was a good idea?

Let's face it,
that wasn't a woman's idea.

As a species that was not one
of our finest moments.

Imagine the Aztec high priest
holding the obsidian knife,

moments away from plunging
through skin and muscle,

needing to cram their hand
into the cramped quarters

of a human chest, rooting around,
trying to find the panicked,

beating heart, wholly unprepared
for air and sunlight.

It must have been an awkward
first for both the people

and gods involved.

Exit Strategy

A tattooed line of dashes

extends from the inside

of her left elbow

down to her wrist.

The fine print reads

Cut here,

alongside a pair of scissors

no bigger than the paws

of a mouse.

Her arm is pale and

free of blemishes,

much less criss-crossing

scars. She says to me,

"It's just common sense

to have a back-up plan."

wake up late

bother no one

rain on the window

My face

a mask

I cannot 

remove

small change

waiting for red to become green

impatient foot rests its weight

a change of light

a man ignores the red

stop hitting the wind

use your mouth 

empty your mind

fill it up again

(untitled/unfinished)

Life did not wait

He knew

when he saw

them walking by.

She did not turn her

head, she didn't

see him,

didn't need to.

He might as well

no longer exist.

Driving the 5

It is morning and I cannot sleep.
I drove through vast fields
of emptiness
to return to this place.
Now I sit
waiting to rest
or move to action.
It will be one
or the other.
I can see
the shadow of a hand
moving closer.