Posts for June 7, 2026 (page 16)

Death is one, of course
And taxes, second—almost worse.
But the third—
Oh, the third—
Such a horror, unnamed
Yet inevitable curse:

You’ll return to the dorms from a night of fun
Seeing flashing lights while firefighters run
Then be forced to stand amidst the throngs
Of fellow students in the cold,
At least three of whom shiver
In naught but a towel’s hold,
One with mid-shower soap still in hair

Because someone, who has no excuse,
Forgot how to read
Or pour water
Or perhaps had too much illicit “juice”
And put a dry mac n’ cheese cup in their decades-old microwave

Then pushed Start

my eyelids droop 
concrete blocks on my eyelashes 
    p
        u
            l
                l
                    i
                        n
                            g
                                d
                                    o
                                        w
                                            n
my legs thump 
    thump 
        thump 
            to no specific rhythm 
                nor the sound of my heart        
                    just restless, so restless
                        yet tired, so tired 
i exaggerate the way the sleepiness 
    falls on top of my body 
        like a weighted blanket,
            with no escape     like 
                                                    sleeping with cats
                                                        on your feet
                                                            too kind to get
                                            up
                                                to disturb 
                                                    the peaceful 
                                                        creature
i wish i were a peaceful creature 
    with big green eyes 
        to observe with
            knowing every movement around 
                                                            me 
i am too traumatized 
    to be so oblivious 
        maybe it’s my optimism            shining             ,or dimming 
depending on how you            want to look at             it 
i wish someone was 
            too kind             & let me             rest             at their             feet             unmoving

Cowboy, knuckles bruised from yesterday’s fight, rivers shame shine cannot blur.

The baby in the cradle will resent you one day
for missing out on soccer practice
or teaching them to love the wrong way
or loving them too much, too closely, for too long.
They will curl their fist once they gain the strength to
and wander against your word
they will squander all your efforts
with apathy and spite
and you will hold them dearly still
whenever they come home.

Happy, I notice everyday,
with gratitude you haven’t 
left like you’d promised. 

Today as you stir the salt 
caramel syrup into coffee, light 
rays breach Mercury, strike bright

radiographic violet-blue hues
that reach us as the image of
our raging red sun. 

This morning, Sze, the Poet Laureate sings—
hearkening to last night. The play 
on distance in Arcturus broods me.  

Arcturus remote, reaches beyond 
to kiss autumnal earth, and you roll away. 
I can’t touch your shoulder. 

I’m trying to reach you. 
You emerge with Samsonite bag, dressed 
to go, two shades of eyeshadow, just so.  

Far-out babe—! but wait, 
you never wear makeup, or visit 
a public bathroom, without a plan. 

I’ve shined down on this home of azure
for two years. Now, I cannot trust 
your hues when you leave. 

You still sit mighty high
on the windowsill.
Even though you are marred
I couldn’t find your missing piece
and mourned the loss. 

Proudly you mount the sill
with his name emblazed
on your front.
He no longer drinks from you.
You serve a different purpose now.