Tuesday, May 10, 2022

OCD



Imagine living your life always feeling like everything you see is
                one centimeter's distance
from its intended location. This overfilled grande caramel macchiato without a lid closer to your arm than expected.
                That brand new crisp white silk blouse already dredging through marinara.
Those tourists cartwheeling with selfie sticks off cliffs like bison mindless in stampede. Really think about how it would affect you.                                      The devastating effects of seeing a slight miscalculation. The panic of impending doom that would permeate your life. Each freeway full of cars crashing together like waves of metal on an asphalt sea.                 Every playground full of kids crying under jungle gyms with broken bones                                                                                                 from just missed rungs. All the buildings in existence ready to collapse (nails missing boards, joints not plumb) like houses of cards, flattening everyone inside. The screaming. The endless screaming. What would it do to a person, that feeling? A constant fear of catastrophe.                              The powerless frustration of everyone thinking you're crazy. Knowing all the wrongs could be prevented if it was moved one centimeter's distance.

Saturday, May 7, 2022

Outlines



we are souls unraveled
genies cast from bottles
absence made manifest

we are shadows on the ground
stand behind me and shine
I'll do the same for you

 

Saturday, April 23, 2022

Morning


we could wake up like this
every day filtered light
through slitted shades
relentless call of cardinals
morning wood pressed against your thigh
soft stirring disheveled bed
lips brushing neck
a quickening of breath
arms encircled hand on heart
a slow stretch 
yawned goodmorning
offer of coffee breakfast
or should we stay here
all day


 

Saturday, January 8, 2022

Omen




i see it
hidden in loose thread
sweaters unravelling dried
glue beneath faded wall
paper and cat hair
on black pants it's etched
in ringed cross
sections of trees the spray 
of satellite droplets
splash 
spilled soup 
patterns and scratch of 
dried tip on sketch 
surge between these
heart beats flash
of color behind
eyelids closed against
sun silence before 
breath passes larynx


Sunday, July 11, 2021

771

 

you’re barely there

neither here nor

anywhere I go

you are and yet

already gone

you remain

until I go to

be with you

again and then

no more



Saturday, September 15, 2018

One Mile Every Five Seconds




















The passing storm
brought dreams
of you of lightning
bolts in hand with thunder
echoing from the East.
And in the space between
I hold my breath and count.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Suffocate


you still smell exactly the same
that was the worst part, I think,
sitting there next to you
the whole time
trying not to inhale

Friday, June 12, 2009

Wrecked


with apprehension
dripping words
you haltingly perspired
emotions tucked carelessly
in bag under arm
suffocating empty love testaments
and furtive collected moments 
made tangible in print 
and forgetfulness 
you walked out of the door
pursuing rapture
I stumbled through apocalypse
to find solitude at the center 
waiting 
in crumpled steel and steam engines
I find myself still holding on
white knuckled to your voice

Gravity


Gravity is my enemy.
No, I'm serious.
I'm always falling
one way or another.
It has become difficult
as other aspects of my
handicap
become apparent
to decide which is more painful:
a cement face plant from 6 feet,
or the slightly lesser distance it takes
my heart to reach the floor.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Big Mistake


You're losing me
faster than time
slipping through your fingers
each second harder to hold
the grains
falling faster

Saturday, June 6, 2009

insomnia



I woke up last night
while you were still asleep.
I love these silent moments
when my gaze is free to wander
uninhibited in the night
in the shadow of your indifference.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Locked


I wish I knew
the combination 
of words to say 
and things to do
to prove myself to you

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Unidentified

You show up briefly
three blips on radar
a solitary metallic ping
and then disappear again.

We're frantic with math
and telemetry
backup data
recordings.

The only evidence we're left with
are three winks of a little green light
and your echo.

Palmistry


If palmistry were truth, 
fate would be etched in flesh. 

If palmistry were truth, 
our fingers would be omens.

If it were truth, 
when we held hands,
we pressed our futures together. 

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Masochist

Sometimes,
when I think
of you, I want
to rip open my chest
and let the sun
burn out my heart.


Saturday, May 23, 2009

Friday, May 22, 2009

Lines


when the call is lost
the wires cut
when I get disconnected
will the dial tone keep my pulse

Operator


Your voice comes out of darkness
whispered secrets 
modulated.
I’m wrapped around and upside-down
hanging on every word.

Push



I don't want to talk about it,
because I don't want to think about it.

I don't want to deal with it.
I don't want to look at it.

I can't have that elephant

pushed back through my aortic valve
into my left ventricle.

It doesn't fit in there,

it's too fragile.


Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Tabula Rasa











This space left intentionally blank.