I’m on the brink
of something new,
like a child in a spring garden
full of morning
and flowers
that are inviting
the pollinators in
for a cup of sweet tea.
And between the plants,
air, and the soil of my soul
I’ve found a hope
that throws its beams
off of the moon
and into the eyes
of a better man
on his way
to better days
and dreams
beyond his sleep.

I move around
like an ant in the garden.
I see flower sky scrapers
and leaf highways.
I have no idea
how small I am,
but if I did
I’d know what things
to care about
and what to
let go of.

Take the smoke
around the corner
with a grain of
tequila,
life is better
like this.

Pour me a shot of something
that actually interests me
and I’ll pour you a shot of
how sorry I actually am.
Pour me a full glass,
I can handle it.
Pour me a shot of
hope.
Pour me a shot of
I don’t care,
with a splash of
seriousness.
Light the place up,
I’ve got all night.

Quit me the way
rain drops quit
the cloud from which
they came.
Back to the earth
you go,
I might plan
on visiting soon.
Might.

I wish that we were
bound by the pain
that we all share,
the way a drop of water
is bound to the ocean.
But we are not.
Instead, we wander
headless and heartless,
and chasing
the horizon of
our fellow human’s strife
proves futile
lest we recognize
that love is the only way
we will ever meet the sun
where it sets.

I took a sip of my beer
and then I said
to the monkey on my back,
“Nothing has ever hurt
so much in my life.”
He took a breath,
then a sip of his beer
and said,
“Ah, it must be love.”