Thursday, September 18, 2014

tracing (everything that matters)

tracing (everything that matters)

tracing everything that matters
took him less time than anyone imagined

everything that matters
had been with him forever

shapeless until he recognized it
and then wordless as an outline

boundary of everything that matters
boundary of everything that is missing

sometimes or to be honest often
he closed his eyes to trace the space

he knew like a recurring dream
or the echo of a shout from a well

before she dove forever into the abyss of gone
she told him that she did not trust herself

as if that could ease the longing
as if that should ease the longing
as if that would ease the longing

Thursday, September 11, 2014

impending doom

impending doom

of all the special powers
he would have chosen
this was not the one

but he had from the beginning
the ability to hear impending doom
the soundtrack of his life

but as always in these cases
with great power comes a great problem
he never knew for whom the doom tolled

impending doom subtle and pervasive
surrounded everything he did each day
fading away before swallowing him

and then as these tales seem to go
he was swept away by the one he loved
complicating the lull of impending doom

in time of course and we cannot be shocked
she set him aside and moved on without him
leaving only the now much louder ring of doom

some things take great time and great distance
but alone one day his mind drifted again to her
swimming up through the recollection of a dream

he finds her alone in a dusky stand of trees
and she turns to him opening her mouth
her voice clear and sharp as impending doom

Monday, September 8, 2014



i wrestle with the moon
and think of you

your skin in moonlight
the curve of your shoulder in silhouette

these dislocate me because
i am nowhere without you

dislocated i rise imagining
there must be another world

where you will hold me again
where a mother and child pass by

and everyone pauses to bow recognizing
this above all else this is the reason

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

blue blood

blue blood

when i read horseshoe crabs
all have blue blood

i wondered why every human
couldn’t be born rich as well

Tuesday, September 2, 2014



I know someday you'll have a beautiful life
I know you'll be a sun in somebody else's sky, but why
Why, why can't it be, why can't it be mine
“Black,” Pearl Jam

i can’t help myself
drawn again and again

like Notting Hill it calls to me
against my reservations
about the unreality of pretty people

i offer this as explanation
recognizing it likely fails
as justification absolving me:

near the end after the dance
Tiffany believes she is the unchosen
running from the hall crying

and then Pat chases her
asking her to read one more letter
when Tiffany realizes she is the chosen

that for me is almost everything
the worst being the unchosen
and the wonderful possibility being the chosen

i forgive everything else untrue
about the film and pretty people
parading before us as if such is possible

because you see it is not pretty we want
those who are the discarded and unchosen
but to be that one true and only chosen