Posts for July 1, 2025

The hopes I had for the end of June
were to be content with my life
and the gray area surrounding my existence
being neither employed nor in school
while accepting what has happened to me the past seventeen years
and eventually what will for roughly the next seventy.
What I’ve learned the past month since graduation is that
it’s my turn to be an adult
with complex emotions and intrusive thoughts.
If I were a man, I’d probably have a five o’ clock shadow.
That’s all from me, folks. 

I’ve tried for so long

to recognize when 

expressing my opinion 

is a fight or a win

I developed a sense

whether right or wrong

of staying out of places

where I don’t belong

But still it’s so hard

to give logic a pass

cause a friend may suffer

if I look like an ass

and say what I’m thinking 

when nobody’s asked

though it looks like the story

is clearly a mask

Dedicated to the James Still Cabin, Hindman Settlement School

Even before you were born. You were born, still
in the hills of Eastern Kentucky. You were dew-bound leaf
weighing a nearby tree and Mr. Still wrote something down
then looked up, straight into you, and you both knew you
before you were named. He practiced the naming.

That’s when anyone could have pointed you out
as what you really are; wild, untamed ribbon of creek,
leaf vein swinging, salty tear, beckoning wind. 

And now, again, at the desk that’s been waiting for you
since you moved into humanhood. Quiet in this house
built by the words of a woman.The nerve of Lucy Furman.
Sit still and listen until you see them where you were
You be the namer. It’s your turn to try to be tamed.

The little red truck, its relentless