I read my own writing and laugh.
Sometimes I don’t understand it (syntax),
Sometimes I think it’s funny,
Sometimes I can’t believe Continue reading Is it cool to love your life?
I like Fall because it reminds me of you.
It reminds me of the lake.
It reminds me of change.
it reminds me of the time that spider bit your arm and I saved your life.
It reminds me of Continue reading Fall
When you said “I’ll never leave you,” I get that you didn’t mean “never.” Fine. It’s been a week, though… You can’t throw around words like that, and not expect them to have meaning. And it’s a bold thing to say. Who says that anymore? Except when you are in love, and actually mean it, or you just finished a long hike and you’ve revealed some angst filled strain in your DNA that your dad gave you when you were eight. Because that’s when Continue reading straight no chaser: Old Rag
I bought you a car,
You barely flinched.
I told you about that new flavor of ice cream,
I offered you a free acupuncture treatment,
To treat that thing that happens
When you wake up Continue reading Scrutiny
And he was shocked that Gilda was not banging down the door to be his date for the dance tonight. He had everything. He worked for her father, he was trustworthy; clearly they were dazzled by his mechanical prowess. (Why else would they put him to work the moment he entered the house?) Fastening the door, un-wobbling the table, shining the roof, Continue reading Criterion & Libby
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,
Planets continue to blah, blah, blah— Continue reading El Presidente Colonial
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
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?
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
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
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