Posts for June 30, 2022


Red Dread

sun my nemesis
sunblock heavy enemy
of my enemy


Painful moment

Turkey vultures picked at his lifeless body
on the road before me
i looked away.
He was a baby raccoon hit by a car left 
to die all alone.
Another one of life’s painful moments
i couldn’t bear to watch.


Key Lime Pie

I had never made a pie,
but this was the one
you always ordered.

I found a recipe,
and either walked or
biked to the store-

I only recall 
hoping regular limes 
would do the trick.

It did not quite
hang together, 
and the color was off,

but oh that crust –
butter, graham crackers!
Prettily filling the Pyrex.

You drank too much
on your birthday
to give it a taste,

and the next night,
I was saving it for you
to try, to see I tried, but

he cut a jagged slice,
proclaimed it sour,
and tossed the whole thing.

I never knew
if you even recalled
that I made it.


Something Borrowed

Our clock has begun
to show its age.

Seconds slip
between its fingers,

shine with memory,
shatter softly.

I do not know
if the minutes lost

have withered
to nothing

or if they, like us,
live on.




i promised i would write about you 
but i can’t

for i fear that whatever i wrote 
would never graze all that you truly are, 
offer, and posses. 

what all you mean to me. 

so i won’t 
for it would put you to shame

so please forgive me
for i fear this is the best that i can do. 

i promise i shall never break another promise, 
or at least try not to. 



Trust Fall

There are times…

To be had

Fit to be tied

Hard times,



In between


When I want to run

Hide away

I can’t.


Even if I tried.

The way

the syllables

Of my name

Wrap around

your tongue

Drawing me in.




they’re going to start
up the collider this July
and there’s no proof
that it does anything
to our universe
but just in case
I’ll write your name
across my ribs
down my spine
imprint your voice
to be the first thing
I hear
if it all comes crashing

cause no matter what
there’s no reality
worth it
without your red electric


screw the dealer

the same friend’s family vacation as last june.
the same awkward pleasantries,
the same cousins playing card games,
the same jokes about needing to lose weight
(I brought carrot cake),
the same going to bed before 10pm.

the same passive aggressive, 
“look how she reacts when I hug her!”
the same complete and utter lack
of self-awareness. 

the same feeling of no one in this room
really wants to be here. 

the same house,
the same pullout couch bed, 
the same counting down the hours
until we can go home. 

everything about this trip is exactly the same. 
except this year
I don’t have wine. 


Waiting for Summer’s End

The sun is disappearing little by little
or is it minute by minute?

What I mean to say is that the end
is coming, the end of summer,

the end of this man-made time,
the clock on the wall twisted

into some unknown language
the birds will never understand.

But they do understand light
and dark and the unbearable heat

that cooks their young
until they abandon the nest

and flies are seen
swarming around it.


Wild Bunch Poets

there’s a poem in the attic
in the yard
through the blinds

there’s a poem in the rain
around the corner
no one minds

you may find one in your sleep
on your pillow
in a drawer

even when you’ve seen them all
you’ll still run
into more

they bloom full into morning
until dusk
into the night

making pictures cinematique
they play it out
just right

while making whispery rattlings

poets choose words carefully, then
measure, stir
with care

because more poems are waiting
down the hall
on the stairs

poets ready with their tackle, mind
and roomy

not just ghostly still in silence
aloof with
gentle heart

but see them now a wild bunch
radical art