Sitting among seven strangers
sharing stories and shepards pie.
I found myself talking to a man named Rick.
Rick was homeless and out of work for eight years.
No loving family.
You see, he began talking to me
Telling me his story.
I listened, pondered.
I did not ask many questions.
He just talked and talked.
I was somebody he could talk to.
He is 50, he outlined a few of his struggles.
He told me during Christmas time...
He didn't want to make it to 51
Because he was lonely.
Lonely.
Lonely?
Lonely.
Billions of people on the planet..
And he's lonely.
Lonely.

I watched the mailman go by again.
He's always at it, delivering mail.
It reminded me how the days pass by and
how theres always Thursdays.
The mailman goes by day after day,
shoving mail into box after box.
I watch him.
I watch his technique.
He doesn't know I'm watching,
but then slowly people trickle out of their houses.
To open the previously closed box
and open the previously sealed letter.
One letter may be special.
So lets be thankful for this doorless truck and its driver.
But really its all about the driver
The mailman.

I fear the words left behind,
I fear the wrongs left to right,
I hate the lies left from my kind,
I hate the days beyond the night.
More so than this, I can’t describe,
The life which died before my scribe.
Beyond the days that disappear,
Beyond all natural things I fear,
I can’t explain what can’t be known,
For it just wasn’t left to be shown.

These things happen I suppose.
They always happen.
I used to care about something, you know.
I did.
I used to feel something when I stared at the sky.
Now the hardwood feels cold under my feet,
and my lungs have lost their warmth.
The clouds eat me whole as I walk home.
They smile.
Sometimes I do too.
But I've wandered too far this time,
these steps don't look familiar.
Someone still sleeps inside this house,
but it's not me.
Someone still lives inside these bones,
but it's not me.

I returned from a foreign land
The land of Jesus
Israel.
I had only forgotten one thing
Over the course of two weeks
I forgot I had a blue bathtub
The tub of blue took me offguard
I stared at it for a long time
Then I had to accept the fact.
My bathtub was indeed blue

I feel like a lot of people can relate
to the never-failing love for all the cookies on my plate.

Sweet, delicate, chocolate chip.
I glance at the milk, then take a sip.

Even raisin, sugar, or oatmeal
cause' any kind of cookie is a good deal.

Every cookie, every crumb
these beauties make my heart go numb.

The excitement within me grows and grows
at the pace of the aroma drifting into my nose.

Without realizing, I may have eaten over thirty-one
Any regrets? ha! None.

The fiery red light was staring into my soul.
There was nobody around...
So naturally I hit the gas.

Looked up in that rear view
and some crazy blue lights were ashinin'.
Then came my swerve of shame to the beckoning curb.

My friend to the right kept his cool
While mowing down on two cheese burgers
As he ate, I shook with a casual fear.

The talk with the police was brief
I handed him my license and registration
and he skipped back over to that cop car.

I sat in fear
he ate burgers
we waited

My boy the police came right on back.
he gave me the blissful news.
NO TICKET.

He began the lecture of eating and driving.
that's when my little burger eater chimed right in.
"Sir, I was just handing her a pickle"

I confirmed the statement.
And next thing I knew I was rollin the streets again
Lucked out.

Four Years.
Four years
of high school basketball:
has come to an abrupt halt.

You see, we'd swag into the locker room.
Pump up the tunes.
throw on the black air Jordan jump suits
and whip out the pre-game moves.

The three coaches walked in
We listened to the pre-game speech
Popped a couple altoids to "keep it fresh"
then slugged a bit of water

The warm up commenced
Lay-ups
Three on Two
Shooting

One more locker room run.
Jersy's on!
But right back on to the court
Where the fans anticipate.

Just a few more shots
Now one minute left
Time for the National Anthem.
"Gentlemen remove your hats."

Pre-game nerves suddenly sink in.
"Oh say can you see."
Thoughts about the game fill my mind.
I look at the crowd, and my loving team mates.

"And now for tonights starting line-up."
Names announced.
Team has last minute words
one. two. three. "swag" ....Tip-off!

We were so good.
So athletic.
A team with 8 returning seniors
we were such ballers

Conference Champs
District Champs
But we couldn't beat them
"The best team in the state."

We weren't sad about the loss though.
We were sad that we had to leave this team.
This team that we'd been with for four years.
We loved each other more than anything.

The final moments in the locker room were bittersweet.
Tears of sadness, tears of joy
We accomplished so much, but above all
It was about the memories we made together.

it is funny, you will be dead some day.
By you the mouth hair eyes,and i mean
the unique and nervously obscene

need;it’s funny.  They will all be dead

knead of lustfulhunched deeplytoplay
lips and stare the gross fuzzy-pash
—dead—and the dark gold delicately smash….
grass,and the stars,of my shoulder in stead.

It is a funny,thing.  And you will be

and i and all the days and nights that matter
knocked by sun moon jabbed ****** with ecstasy
….tremble (not knowing how much better

than me will you like the rain’s face and

the rich improbable hands of the Wind)

"...to release the captives and to set the oppressed free!"
These were the only words I caught from the booming preacher up front,
and I suddenly imagined myself being freed.
Undoing the chains and unlocking my cage;
and then, turning to him with tears in my eyes, I kiss his cheek and float away-
slowly turning into ashes as her fingers trace a cross on my forehead
"Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return."