Category Archives: Poetry

and this is
an everlasting joy.

rain makes
small holes
in the land,
which we fall
into.

the only way
to get better
is
to let go.

a friend
in the wisened eyes
of their old wooden
house.

i could not
fathom to
eat the burrito,
but the
friend
did not mind.

she has a
severe haircut
and tends bar
on weekends.

a small house in an obscurity of woods

maybe
on a
wooden porch.
a
brownstone stoop.

i breathe in and
am caught by the sharp barbs
of his chemically-enhanced scent.

all of us,
an other
to someone
else.

the day
was gentle
and
i felt ok
about myself.

he says to me,
he says
“i have an
older brother
and we couldn’t be
any more different”.

were i
an artist
i could make
art of this,

every day,
another terrified,
malignantly insecure
man
behaving with
violence and
bravado.

you wish
you’d said
less.

the body is
mostly
empty.

i do not
know so
i think about
it
for far longer
than seems
rational
or appropriate.

a literal genius

when it is hot enough

a
chuckle really,
but without
condescension,

“your tailpipe is
the most beautiful
rusted orange”,
i said,
with a smile,
and
the driver looked at me
with a pale mixture
of confusion
and suspicion
and said
“what?”

the human animal
has wiped out
near all the other
animals, again.

the bars are
dripping
with people.

i cannot
always choose
when
i go.

there must be
something wrong
with them,
i think,