Friday, October 29


Your simple life, its
subtle hues—
They are falling all around me.
It is floating like a haze,
like a drifter,
a champaign bottle's popped cork
from yesterday's celebration;
it's reclining, lengthwise, in some expanse—
it could be called the sea.
It will not be.
I will call it something else.
I will write its name on the stars,
or maybe
just on the face of my heart.

Thursday, October 21

An Unexpected Chill

An unexpected chill
greets my face
as I step up
to the water’s edge.
Winter has snaked
her first tendrils
of frosty breath
into autumn’s
still-rosy glow.

Tuesday, October 19

Spin Down

Into the fluid we go
like a dust mite
on a pillow of screams. We fly down
and let it surround the body,
let it fill those lungs in
suplication of all those dreams
that to you and me
are nothing more
than the reality of the air.

Friday, October 15


Let us leave
like lemons the dull history of our past,
the frank smells of our brother's flesh.
Are we not all one in the beginning? Or
has this twisted tale we tell raked you so
over the woodpile, your pants down, bottom up
that you forget: twisted miles of dreams
that were once lived by us all. Tell me now
that you believe in how we got here. Fast
it so just disappears that it can't be found
in your head.

Tuesday, October 12

It starts now, quickly like hunger

Some words will fall and
become me. Become those
who are here.
Walk through them
like a dance, like
a fire and feel the heat
on your tounge.