Rare
And
Bites
Better
Into
Teeth

We are often the
  most critical

Of what we are the
  most guilty of

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2015)

I convert
I come out
I confess

I confound
I confuse but
Don’t conform

I perform
The reform
Rejigger the norm

You and me,
Let’s have tea—
And reach quorum

Money won't buy you death.

Love
is wasted
on the loved.

My existence flickers,
but only in my own mind-
I seem to be forgetting reality,
and the memories I've captured
are finding ways to escape the jar.
I chase them through the dew-speckled fields,
but they deceive me every time.

And sometimes I stop,
and fling myself to the ground -
roll to face the stars,
and nearly drown in my own tears,
and ask

"Why?"