The town is small. No big store but many tiny ones. Expensive for those that visit and rarely bought by those around. A dock is at the park. A large path going from one side of town to the other. Downtown to uptown confusion. Change…

i am haunted by humans*; follow a trail of laughter not my own on my way back from work, eyes smiling with the memory of the way she stole my planner and wrote ‘my birthday! ;)’ on every wednesday except for the one in the…

Should this poem be flippant? Carefree? Lazy? Maybe funny? Or should it be dark? Depressive? Full of death and anger? Should this poem rhyme? Should it sing? Should the metaphors jump from the page and run around the room? Should this poem pull me into…

Free-write My hair has a mind if it’s own most days. Unruly and hard to tame. We’re a lot alike, my hair and I. But I think we both look our best wrapped in your fingers.

Love Reveals Naked truth Undressing my thoughts. Clothes slipping down into A pile on the floor ‘neath me, patiently waiting your touch. Downcast eyes flicker warmth hiding softly Fallen words, describing what you see What your heart has moved to feel within you That which…

Absorption of all light Of every visible energy particle Of all portions of the spectrum Like a signal to an antenna Like vitamin D to soil and bark Like builders to work on monuments Like scholars to an archive Like prophets to canon Like dusk…

No one even knew it wasn’t an Ordinary day. Rearranging all familiar objects; Making common melt away. And now we only have the rubble Left once the twister flew away.

I live in a small house high above the slum On the street but off the track Into the wood, the green scenery Held by the tall mountains and flat plains But enveloped in a cloud of silence Yet, once or twice broken by the…

  The Gift of Time   Here’s this…oddly familiar cash box, the sort you use for a yard sale or craft show, I’ve just dug out of the ground where the roses are strangled. To say the previous homeowner had a green thumb would be…

Ordinary, middle-of-the-line, average, simple, median midline life of what was Before, but it’s the After post-crisis, picking up pieces and trying to fit the ‘normal’ in the non, the average in the odd, the sane in the new. There is no turning back to the Before, the world spins…