my heart’s so fragile;
i’m afraid to give it away,

all that’s left of me is
a sarcastic personality,
and even that is
starting to fade.

Blue and white and orange and white
And songs and coffee and tears
Keep together my daily plight

I’d add you to my list of fears
But I don’t want to miss your laughs
And songs and coffee and tears

I’d split my soul into two neat halves
And hand me to you on a platter
But I don’t want to miss your laughs

I know that it would need to matter
If you were to open up one day
And hand you to me on a platter

I’ll model the place we’re in like clay
And slowly, slowly seep me out
If you were to open up one day

I’d take good notice of the route
Blue and white and orange and white
Would slowly, slowly seep us out
Keep together my daily plight

Destiny and eternity are
chiseled in seconds.
Flecks of snow become
mountains.
Drops of rain make
oceans.
Thoughts tumble into
decisions, and actions,
overtime, leave a
legacy.

Evening sky reflects
on the glass lake.
The soldier of a
tree carries on
through the lonesome
night.
If we could only
see the dreams of
the fish,
far from the
frying pan.

On a day that was
fraught
with anxiety and anger,
I sailed on
to the
other side.
The two pens that
blew up in my hand
foreshadowed the
prolific writing
streak to come.
Six poems today,
a personal best.
Bukowski would be
proud.
He might even
wonder
How I did it without
******
***** and
cigarettes.

It was easy.
I had bluebirds for
lunch, and listened
to Vivaldi.
I Just let the telephone
ring
ring
ring

With furrowed brow
and a soul full of
sorrow,
I trudge the
lonely road of
perdition.
Providence guides me
as I stumble and fall.
Not even *** or
chocolate
can save me now.

My girl,
when I ****
you
I’m on top of the world.
I become unfurled—like a  
whale’s tail,
like a dolphin in a
sea of love,
your ***** fits me like
a glove.
They say doves mate for
life,
and swans die in
the spring,
you make my ****
sing, like yang ling or
whatever that panda’s
name was.
It’s love that  
makes the world go around,
and baby,
I found it.

When the urge
to react to the
tactless clowns,
and
down looks like
up,
and life's teeth
are sharper than
a steak knife,
breathe,
and take a
sacred pause