Posts for June 15, 2026 (page 4)

The sun is a star-
let hiding her face behind
a summer green fan.
Woe to paparazzi who
believe she can be consolidated 
to a three by five screen.

I ditch the phone,
behold gold
full-bodied, blazing.

It’s only temporary, I know
Still, it’s so hard to watch 
you drive away from me and go

You wanted to bring your car
so you’ve got a straight shot north
I guess it’s really not that far 

With all our closeness I forgot
what it was like to miss you 
to turn and reach where you’re not

You ask me all the time why 
I never write anything flowing
with rhythm or with rhyme

So this one’s for you
since I cannot go too
I’ll see you on the other side of June

So many things to be

A wave in the ocean

A grain of sand on the beach

A blade of grass, dancing in the wind

So many things to be

A soft feather of a blue bird,

perhaps

The fur on a black cats back

So many things to be

other than me

with and without

you

all the time

exposes me, cracks my shell

to gaze at my fried mind

see i’m selfish

helpless

can’t get anywhere on time

        down the line when my

   stuck frozen, clinging like

you’ve been stolen

      right out of my bed

routine makes me claustrophobic 

i’m hoping

we catch up in time

       but

the ceilings are much too high

the ground is washed out

     slipped from my palms is pride

and a question:

        will i ever be enough?

the water which wells my will

to live

     runs

          dry
why?

                                        After “Don’t Mess with Midge” — LexPoMo 2021

Midge: Last seen
burning up the road
on her monster machine
biker Rick trailing        far        far        behind.

Rick, once her key to the road,
had his pleasure, served
her purpose, but now
is long forgotten, never missed.

Midge, woman who knows herself,
what she wants, runs her own bike
repair shop in a small burg
among foothills that beckon
whenever she feels restless.

And today, when she heads out,
her riding partner is Aubrey,
precocious five-year-old, helmeted
and secured behind her, learning
the joys of possibility and freedom.

dried out well of me
frayed rope, rust ridden bucket, 
barren and brittle

i learned i had a Voice my Freshman Year in College,
it was a turbulent year, met a new friend in speech class,
he had a fun laugh, was light hearted, smart, EZ to feel happy around
he told me how dangerous it could be just being friends
it was hard to believe . . . he told me while driving together,
we could be pulled over for no good reason than the color of his skin

there was a War raging in Vietnam ~ friends enlisted, one had died
Martin Luther King & Robert Kennedy ~ had been shot
Sisterhood is Powerful ~ was gaining liberation momentum
police opening fire on protestors ~ was becoming a common occurrence

and there were people in San Francisco with flowers in their hair
turning on & tuning out . . . spreading LOVE not WAR

as lies were spinning a web of lies
spinning pre-judging appearances as real
spinning lamely justified harsh prejudices

now years later . . . still turbulence in the air . . .
we still do not know . . .
we are not appearances ~ we are spirits residing within
we are not black ~ we are not white

we are gentle souls able to recognize the soft touch of dark skin
we are gentle souls able to realize it’s not OK to incarcerate our children
we are the ones who spin & furl and tilt & whirl over the injustices
imposed by numb men and women
who have become the masks they wear  

i could love you
not in the way you want, of course
but like a trash bag after a child’s birthday party
or the windshield washer fluid after a bird shits all over your car
from gobbling down too many sweet, delicious berries
i could clean you up, make you whole,
show you what my obsession is all about
so that you could truly see yourself for what you are,
what you want to be, the guy in the Modern Love music video
all chaos and earnest yearning
i could offer my unyielding attention,
eyes darting across the room at every lithe act,
your nimble prowess on full display
to the lone audience member in rapt trance
while the party dances to some muzak
i could tolerate your insanity, your drive,
keep adding gears to the machine as it stumbles along
despite itself falling apart
at hearing the sound of its own being
i could mold myself
pupate in the presence of progesterone and carrot salad
replace this corpse with ethereal beauty
and mild disinterest to keep your attention
i could die for you like a fawn
running at twilight over freshly poured asphalt,
liver and heart spilling out due to a teenage driver
who cried and called his step-dad not knowing what to do
i could consume your soul
devouring every glob and morsel
and yet be left with more human essence than when i started,
maw stuffed but still your body whole
i could love you
truly, i could,
if you existed at all

strange flowers bloom
in the grass which poets walk
see these mystery petals, here
lean down close, feel the warmth of the earth beneath your toes

this flower here, looks like a piano recital.
and here, take this one,
mysterious yes?
that nature made a polka-dotted bouquet of daisies
here, just for you, just the same as your dad gave you
running off the stage of your first dance recital.

here unfolds a red rose, at the beginning breath of life
grandmas favorite, take one with you,
pass by her grave to place it there
tell her you remember how she loved you.

even cattails blossom here,
this ecosystem is vast.
you can journey back to when you were
young, imaginative
blowing out wishes and dreams
by the lakeside

when we brought you home you were young
and angry—born
cage fighter, you wrestled house plants, sunk
teeth into everything. today you sprawl on the porch,
complaining about the weather.

in cat years your first hours
are days. i wonder then when you
surpassed me, how fresh from the womb
when you tumbled, sleepless and blue
-eyed, into your dour

wisdom. whether
the rumors are true, and you
really do live more
than once.