grandma b.

May 23, 2017

Take your peace knowing
though they are young
you are lasting.
Read the rest of this entry »

rockabye baby.

April 1, 2017

this rockabye baby
cradling yourself
in small, dark spaces

Read the rest of this entry »

empty cars.

February 5, 2017

Manning empty cars
The radio feeds old pains
Familiar roads in the rearview Read the rest of this entry »

4am 4 years later.

November 26, 2016

That first light comes quickly
to the somber night bird,
the mid-day moondreamer Read the rest of this entry »

i am not the one.

July 26, 2016

or any other,
muse no longer.
Knowing that a
day would come, Read the rest of this entry »

crocodile crock.

June 14, 2016

You have them fooled,
like Caulfield’s phony-
guilty of that which Read the rest of this entry »

i still beep.

June 7, 2016

I still beep at your little, vacant house,
sitting somber for years.
I do think about your potted plants,
your tall backyard, Read the rest of this entry »

slow syrupy.

May 13, 2016

there truly is no poetry.
it is only whimpers
while lovers sleep Read the rest of this entry »

olly oxen free.

May 13, 2016

when the street lights scamper
through the moving silhouettes
of a Saturday night

Read the rest of this entry »

You will be here
tomorrow but
I’ve already begun Read the rest of this entry »

magic of the merry moon.

December 26, 2015

The magic of the merry moon,
lay within the clouds dull casting
of a melancholy illumination Read the rest of this entry »

humbled.

November 22, 2015

What need is there to be humbled,
amidst grand canyons, vast waterfalls, Read the rest of this entry »

boiling frogs.

November 16, 2015

Humble, little heart,
you’ll learn to like bubbles,
as it slowly starts to simmer,
Read the rest of this entry »

beloved funeral march.

September 13, 2015

From atop the rock jetties,
each wave beckons
a brisker breeze, Read the rest of this entry »

grand.

August 11, 2015

Here I am.
Side by side with
eons of earth Read the rest of this entry »

shaped by use and time.

June 14, 2015

I wonder if he’ll ever wear me well.
Embraces donned like favorite coats;
or patina on long-worn copper rings.
Read the rest of this entry »

sea glass.

May 28, 2015

Isn’t it something-
how a name once so fine,
achingly rolled about Read the rest of this entry »

sober in the library.

March 31, 2015

They don’t come as they used to,
with straightened spines,
drinking from rosy glasses-
long-winded in promise.
They do still come, but at
the price of potential,
lurking behind bedposts,
and at always 3 o’clock
in the morning, day after day.

greensleeves.

March 21, 2015

You look for me,
in all of them,
don’t you?
In the curve of her
little finger
around a teacup,
or shotglass.
In the crease of her
curious brow,
in the cusp of her
collarbones.
You will long to
hear Greensleeves
humming from
the bathtub,
only to find her
wet and wanting,
won’t you?

loose ends.

March 13, 2015

Some people are book covers,
or novella titles,
a series of haphazard archetypes, Read the rest of this entry »