The rain hammers on the whistlepigs outside
like an organic xylophone
they fiddle with bits of grass in the dark

It's night and the chorus frogs
back it all up,
the humming of the refridgerator
the whistlepigs
the water in the pipes,
the rain.

I've been in this cabin in the woods
**** near a month already
and the incessant buzz of electricity trying hopelessly
to ground through the faulty wiring
in ten million appliances
still cannot be escaped.

Better to be a whistlepig
living beneath the floorboards in the damp
than a mouse in the walls-

but I guess I've never
been either.

The devil doesn't always appear with a red cape and horns.
Sometimes he is beautiful.
Like a fallen angel
because he is
and he was gods favorite...

Too close to the flame …
—too far from the light

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

All I wish for
are nights
where my demons
refrain from
running rampant.

I want them
to sit still
and behave
as I savor
the gentle
early morning breeze.

I want them
to remain quiet
when I listen
to the sound
of nature.

I want them
to close their eyes
while I watch
the gleaming stars
from the
rooftop balcony.

Maybe one day
when everything
is in place.

A day where
I've cleaned up
all the mess
that I've made.

Maybe then
they've found peace
and would run away
with me
through mire
and tall grasses
together.

All I wish for
is to make
my soul
rest in tranquil planes.

Maybe one day.