Posts for June 13, 2024

maybe after a brunch shift?
after you left your dishes on the table?
or after you said “no” to 15% gratuity. 

rude isn’t how i would describe this place. 

the place where you stumble upon three regulars in an evening,
or should i say former regulars,
the women who i used to serve, who would regulate me, 
ask me how i was doing and not just what they wanted. 

the place where we visited beans (the cat) on her death bed,
perched on a chair in the florist,
looking out onto the greenhouse she called hers,
staff given time to say goodbye to the very best member of the team. 

the place where i return after my lover leaves town,
and i need to cry,
need to be held by a dear friend, pretzels in hand,
and told “i love you to death.”

so pocket the word rude, 
replace it with loving
& tip your fucking servers. 

Stare into your off- brand Honey Nut Cheerios and almond milk. 
You eat it over the same sink you wash away the bone powder from your arms with everyday…

Buying groceries today was a victory.

But nobody has the time to care. 

So smile for yourself. 

My troubles run deep. 

“These are the days of our lives. “

I sleep in my van, that has all my things,
outside of my employer. 
I cremate the deceased.
I’m saving for an apartment. 
My life was ruined.
My desire to accept toxicity poisoned me.
Naivety.
Confidence in a coma.
Nearly five years.
I’m starting anew.
I’m also branded. 
Off- brand.
An off- brand human. 
Another person who hasn’t got their shit together. 
Another not good enough yet. 
Disregard the lack of a life I’ve lived for five years. 
Disregard my mental state. 
I tapped out. 
I needed to have nothing. 

To become nothing. 

To bloom again. 

—–

A seed in your garden
that gave you a plant
began as a seed in a packet of seeds
you never gave a shit about. 

There is beauty in
All that is broken, and then
Mended with pure gold 

One moment can last an eternity
A moment in time that never goes away
Lingering like a smoke ring
Old desires never fade
Preserved on the pages of my soul
Found in the book of my existence
Written by a lover’s skillful hand
Your first will never be forgotten

The grove of mixed oaks inches slowly closer
to one another, even over the hungry years,
nature’s reminder that even atrophy
has its narrow place, makes a bed
rich with potential. Underneath, decay-
ing:
the leaves,
a fertile
some
thing.

It looms.
It loams. 
It loads the soil with what the trees need,
their canopies fruiting over and over.

Nana’s blue kitchen
  wooden spoons, big bowl: peaches
     tea kettle whistles

Keep track of pockets
of perspective
throughout the day–
time you’re awake  
while awake.

I wanna make good messages,
so I don’t.
In my head I write pages
folks might like to see, but won’t.

So I don’t 
try correspondence 
folks might like to see (but won’t).
I might be 50% full of despondence.

Try correspondence:
once upon a time I relished letters,
I might be 50% full of despondence,
diminished health produces heavy fetters.

Once upon a time I relished letters,
in my head I write pages.
Diminished health produces heavy fetters,
I wanna make good messages.

I have heard there are little
girls who do not cry
themselves
awake

Girls who walk in bliss
at night
alone
moonshined

girls aglow

I have heard there are girls
who dance across
horizons and
beneath
sunsets

Heard they pulsate
as both birth and
evolution
of
time

I have heard there are girls
who right now know
they are
more
than

The origin stories written
told and sold
by mere
mortal
men 

Nightly phone calls grew into lists
of small gratitudes found each day.  
Six years of thoughts exchanged as gifts.
Nightly phone calls grew into lists
of meals, music, naps, or sleep missed–
Dad needed to know I was okay.
Nightly phone calls grew into lists
of small gratitudes found each day.