Friday, May 28, 2021


Little soul, 
you have no control. 

One day, you will need 
to let go,

but you won't. 
(There is such a thing 

as too 
sincere, you know.)

Thursday, May 27, 2021


Courage isn't bravery, 
but fullness of the heart—
your body's drive to stay alive
compressed into a song.

After years, are you truly 
still so distressed 
to find yourself moved by 
all you can hear? 

Perhaps after all you should 
call yourself lucky 
to wander through life 
on the threshold of tears

because that way, 
you'll always know on which 
side of that verge
you belong.

Wednesday, May 26, 2021


The most instructive thing 
about counting to infinity 

has nothing to do 
with number; 

it's that your indifference 
to the task doesn't matter;

you can 
take it or leave it, 

work backward 
or forward,

attend it with discipline 
or crash like a slacker.

who values anything,

can start anywhere, 
and be dead-center—

and from there, 
it gets even easier:

you either start to calculate, 
or you wait.

Tuesday, May 25, 2021


As you know, living breast-
to-breast here 
with the others,

alone doesn't need 
desert conditions 
to  grow.

To explain 
the word cleaves 
its own definition, 

great depth as much
as destruction.

Written, it is a tiny seed 
which contains 
a vast ocean—but strangely,

that power is yet doubled 
when it's spoken 
to another.

Monday, May 24, 2021


To be frank, we must 
take some phantasmic 
pleasure in uncertainties.

Each new birth 
is still celebrated 
as a miracle,

even in this increasingly 
poisonous world;

every wedding guest
is still impressed 
by the ice sculpture,

even while the Amazon 
rain forest smolders.

Or perhaps, our reaction 
works more like 
stage magic, since

fascination emerges 
from the same empty cage 

into which the whole 
audience saw dread 
get inserted.

Friday, May 21, 2021


The dumbfounding sight, 
wavy from across the 
distant blacktop,

of scorched-purple columbine
anywise arrayed 
against the bent wood fences 

says: when true dog days 
descend on your neighborhood 
later this summer, 

this time they 
well might be coming 
to stay.

Thursday, May 20, 2021


Perhaps, this hate 
which you gave 
to others 

was love 
whose two vowels had

and evaporated 

in the friction 
which resulted 
from the 

toil of 


Perhaps, this anger 
which you once wielded
like a sword 

was patience 
gone sour—

not because 
its presences was 
unwelcome at dinner,

but just
from being left out 

on the counter too long 


Perhaps, this sadness 
which you cannot seem 
to rinse clean

was joy 
that's now threadbare 

from being stretched  
too aggressively 

for too long around 
too many 

ungainly things. 

Wednesday, May 19, 2021


There are mornings 
when the very first thing 

is the need 
to have an idea.

And then, 
there are evenings 
where the last idea standing

is the desperate 
need to fall 


I think I need 
to clear my head. 

I'm think I'm becoming
too interested

in the way 
being interested 
generates fumes 

we call "finitude," 
which must then be


How is it 
each day 

feels so far away 
from the last

when really there's 
just that thin stream 

of tedious recap 
dreams in-between?

Tuesday, May 18, 2021


If nothing else, 
at least for those 
two or three minutes—

still soggy 
with the pulp of 
last night's of sleep, 

its bellwether 
dreams still 

when the endlessly-
in-rushing space 
of this world 

is crimped back 
to leave a small  
path for the feeling

that there's nothing 
to pray for, since 
I might be anybody.

Monday, May 17, 2021


We call it a virtue—
to seek 
new experiences, 

coveting the novel 
like the wife 
of a neighbor.

But never 
is the horrible 
downside considered—

with each moon's
new waxing, 

what's familiar 
grows larger,

less abstract, 

more aggressive-
ly territorial.

Many tryers 
who value 
the use of their fingers,

or tasters their tongues,
would be 
wiser to wane

or at least 
remain stuck
where they were. 

Friday, May 14, 2021


Let's play a game 
with the charged 
openness of language;

the next phrase 
may destroy you 

or leave you  

Multiple readings,
polyvalent implications 

comprise their before- 
and-after shots.

Proof is not an answer, 
but pleasure 

in entertaining both sides 
of the paradox.

Thursday, May 13, 2021


For obvious reasons, 
it's nice
to believe 

that sleep is not a rehearsal 
for dying, 

nor is it some strange and 
colorless landscape 
into which we all plummet 

once the small aircraft
staffed by our consciousness 

is harrowingly dog-fought 
out of commission. 

Instead, perhaps its 
thick swarms of 
amorphous propagation

function more like training 
for the actual mission—

namely: our melding 
into all that is
presently happening, 

a rejoining with the program 
already in progress, 

which, one day, will require 
a focus so wide, 
an attention so general

that we won't even think 
of its opposite 
as narrow.

Wednesday, May 12, 2021


Like a musty old

with cloth bits standing-in 
for its long-
lost rooks 

and a couple of quarters
kept in the box 

expressly for use
in place 
of horses—

or, like a 
library book
with a few pages missing

which, mercifully does not 
seem to decrease 

your affinity for characters
or apprehension 
of plot—

so too 
can a heart

still be jury-rigged  
to work 

even after a few 
of its parts were
snatched out.

Tuesday, May 11, 2021


We know it
in our bones when 
something's amiss—

except when those 
five alarms ring
from within. In that case, 

there's no preordained place
from which to receive 
the emergency.

Though we might drip 
with urgency, our ducts 
remain dry; it's as if 

we've tried fighting this 
house fire
from inside.

Monday, May 10, 2021


Why the big to-do 
around putting 
your foot down?

However tenacious you 
make yourself 
out to be, 

you know that
soon you will have to
unstick that boot 

and move it 
to some other 
discrepant position 

(which, by the 
way, is also quite 

If you're not 
being careful,
you might even slip

and come loose 
from this capricious 
planet entirely.

So what's with 
the show we 
pretend to intuit 

around these alleged-
ly permanent
displays of our firmness?

When in truth 
we all know from
way back 

in grammar school how
nothing stays put 
without roots.

Friday, May 7, 2021


things we know 
cannot be applied;

what's crucial 
is impossible,

like going back in time 
to leave before you arrived.

As if we 
are the ones who've just 
done something wrong,

the solution 
has a habit of breaking 
it off with us—

just when we hoped we might
cling to it most.

All we can do 
to keep ourselves occupied

is tally-up the evidence 
we've snuffed from 
existence, but 

this never seems to run 
down the clock—
and besides,

the total 
is not the same thing
as the sum.

Thursday, May 6, 2021


Maybe there's 
a purpose
to each place, 

an end
which pacifies  
all the objections.

Maybe there's 
a bedrock 
somewhere behind your face 

which is free 
of all of the guilt 
of comparison.

Would you rather be 
the fish 
in this aquarium—

forgetting, with each turn, 
the dimensions 
of your prison? 

Would you sigh
with your gills 
spread so wide 

that the patron 
passing by could
see to your inside?

It's possible
what we've built
is all that there is,

but that doesn't mean we 
were designed to 
recognize it.

Wednesday, May 5, 2021


Even the sun—dependable, huge, 
true as it comes,

you know, before 
too long, is 
how it will leave you.

And here, all you've done 
is walk 
into the room;

you must 
not have a thing 
to lose.

Tuesday, May 4, 2021


From the bluntest 
of blows and the 
most pointless impacts—

asteroids smashed 
into still-
molten planets, 

rocks that bust rocks, 
dashboards crushed 
against foreheads—

instead of destroyed 
in a powderkeg 
of morass,

somehow, your
appreciation grows
even more exact.

Monday, May 3, 2021


At last, when there's 
only a minute 
of daylight remaining,

time finally relaxes
and unclenches, 

expanding in significance 
as the sky 
in turn diminishes;

over far shadowed 
hills, mauve clouds 
in the distance, 

a long low note 
being held
in your head—

the last syllable 
of a goodbye

which doesn't know 
how to finish.