Category: poem

• to those we briefly meet

  Lee, I met you once:
  I met a man strong
  with legs that loved
  volleyball and a smile
  that welcomed all and
  now none of it remains –

  except perhaps this.

  [RIP Lee]

  July 11, 2010

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• feeling of a hangover (haiku)

  floor hard on my bones
  ceiling looks down in pity
  mascara runs… runs….

  July 10, 2010

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• outside tonight is the heat

  outside tonight
  is the heat; it
  wraps my shoulders
  like a shawl knit
  by white-haired women
  who in their circle
  hum with soft
  gossiping
  and the air conditioners
  chirp in with a
  whirr of understanding.

  July 9, 2010

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• addict

  end it
  tomorrow control it
  fight scratch claw fight
  kill it
  that deep down
  twisted knife
  step off the ledge
  jump the height
  end it
  tomorrow control it
  fight scratch claw fight
  kill it
  i am it and it is me
  i am it and it is me
  no end
  no end no end no-
  end it
  tomorrow control it …

  July 7, 2010

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• grass is always greener

  all it takes:
  one soft ocean wave
  one swift approaching storm
  one sandy toe
  one face leaned back

  it’s enough,
  those dark brown eyes
  one quick glance
  one wrong word
  one minute alone

  one single
  flutter of the belly
  is enough to…

  July 7, 2010

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• fourth of july at the beach

  below me
  red white blue crowds swell
  crest cheer
  down the boardwalk
  firework finale booms over
  waves crashing
  my toes sandy on a balcony
  the streetlights
  humming hazy
  with humid Patriotism.

  July 5, 2010

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• bitterness at the polls

  It is in every
  Single
  Twitch, lie, conviction,
  Breath.

  You feel it deep in your throat.
  It pulls at your tongue
  And lingers down your esophagus,
  Not easily displaced.

  You can’t help but
  Sip it slowly, roll it ’round your mouth
  Till your
  Taste buds go numb.

  Then,
  (and you won’t notice)
  you’ll be
  slick with drool.

  July 2, 2010

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• going home for dinner

  my father
  has disappeared to wash
  our cars that haven’t been
  scrubbed since the
  last visit.
  my mother in the kitchen
  is looking for the
  big fat cat
  who is no longer around.

  (i’m wishing i was still
  small enough to fit in
  the swings)

  June 30, 2010

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• the girl to dust

  will “they” say
  the calm is what
  killed her?

  was the quiet lack
  what turned the
  blood to sludge
  the brain to mush…

  what turned
  the girl to dust?

  June 30, 2010

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• alone on a Friday night

  only I
  notice wind along the pink
  sunset lining the clouds
  only I
  am audience to silver fish
  dancing to the feel of dusk
  only I
  watch people’s legs walking
  talking, so full of plans
  only I
  realize that silence is
  beautiful in its impossiblity.
  Only I.

  June 29, 2010

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