Dead poets line four walls Fixed eyes, thin skin choking on dust Indignant, gracious Quit looking for me here, they say The best part of living is what you learn alone in the dark when the rest of the world sleeps All the losing and winning Brimming and seeping from pottery shards unearthed in our…
I’ll walk to the cemetery tonight and find you like we did in college when phones were fat with squiggly tails and I always hoped it was you I’d start off up the hill above my dorm soft jeans and sensible shoes loud, blue parka nothing at all in my pockets through ushering pines and…
Isn’t it interesting how other animals don’t seem to feel sorry for themselves? The loss of a child Starvation Bitter cold, brutal heat They simply bow their heads and eat when it’s offered And how we look so hard within domes and people, that which is offered so baldly in the wild I wonder People…
The TV could be on in the other room You’d be on your laptop half interested in everything, nothing Anything but me Our daughter would be somewhere here; absently, greedily eating illusions And I’d be dying quietly, no differently than I am now… Except that now I get to walk the catacomb like a priestess…
I am an ocean full of dark things that never see light My body covers the earth and when the sun bears his touch I remember how vast I really am I could spend hours rolling my head side to side trying to see all of myself And that’s when you see me and remember…
I love the way she cries Only does it when she needs to She beats the sunrise to her totem overlooking the meadow I try and catch her through binoculars, but what could be better than my naked eye Then it occurs to me in this moment why I love her so much She is…
Nature’s ceaseless muscle Pulls us From these small hours These dying bodies Because the Truth is Fires that start in space never stop spreading Sunlight is touchable on a horse’s hip A soft hand always heavies the eye And we breathe through our hearts Knowing the notes of a song we’ve never heard before
If I live to be a hundred, I will be just as beautiful as I am now. My sun heart will still rise before I do. My moon mind will still gawk about the midnight of my bed quarters. My star-fire blood will still warm the bow of infinity that is my flesh. And my…
God shows himself in mysterious ways Sometimes he’s Louis Armstrong on the radio on your way home from work Sometimes he’s an owl-shaped tealight candle holder, small and gray That way when you turn off all the bedroom lights his face flickers in haunting shadow Actually he’s a million different solitary birds presenting to each…
I saw this man wearing a sign today on 42nd street and he reminded me of you how you would have Loved him and all the people who never looked up You’d say– Maybe the guy behind him is texting his wife can’t wait for Colorado Maybe the fella to the right is meeting an…
Sobriety Poet 