Leaving town was probably the worst idea I’ve ever had.
I’m not gonna say I made a mistake,
But I think about you being a shitty
Ball player now, I guess that some of that blame
Falls on to me.
Some people Continue reading when sound the dice roll make
Monthly Archives: April 2014
El Presidente Colonial
You tell me you can’t see us together anymore;
Like those two flower pots on the table:
We’re both there just not together.
I kick and scream and throw paint.
You speak calmer and explain that life goes on,
Ocean’s this,
Forest’s that,
Planets continue to blah, blah, blah— Continue reading El Presidente Colonial
The day the ducks went in the fountain
The time has come for us to meet and sit and chat about nothing at all. In the hopes that something will arise out of the petty teeming; the who did this; the what color did that get painted — maybe we can reach a place of mutual curiosity.
In the tree house of Continue reading The day the ducks went in the fountain
Detonate
Because when you get upset it’s like a bomb going off.
The radius is vast;
There is almost no place one can be without
Receiving collateral damage.
I could be in Timbuktu
Reading the paper
Snacking on an orange — you get mad
I will feel it in the knee
The chest
Or thigh
Before the juice has spilt down the sides of my beard.
What’s it About
Is it hugging, or talking?
Which one do you want to do till we die.
Hugging or talking, walking or crawling…
Don’t you want both?
Both, then.
So we hug and talk for the rest of our lives.
When you’re mad?
When you’re mad, I get mad. Continue reading What’s it About
The Lowest Denominator
At a cafe in Maine last week I stumbled upon a journal that someone had left in the floorboard of the wall. I was just staring into space, and thinking about my future — picking at the tiles near the sugar and napkin holder — when a larger piece fell with a PLOOP, and out comes the edges of fifty, maybe sixty pages tied together with faded twine. Continue reading The Lowest Denominator
Birds
Sometimes I walk by birds and get upset when they fly away.
My dad says it’s cause I startle them, but I don’t know if that’s true.
If I see a bird up the path,
I keep my steps even and begin to think past them.
It sounds weird, but I think beyond the space where they are.
Looking past them at the bus stop,
I’ll think about why my dad was late picking me up;
If he were on time we might have made the bus, Continue reading Birds
