I stare above
my cold coffee
and warm cereal
at the blank wall in front
of me. I miss you.
Or at least I think I do
I don't know
it's hard to tell these days
I was miserable with you
and without you I'm
bored.
It may take a few more
lonely breakfasts
before I figure
out which one is
worse.

you
dance
like
the
night
and
your
love
is
just
as
bright.

We went to a reading
You sat leaned back
With your arms crossed
sighing at every read line
aren't they just so pathetic
The person reading begins to cry
reading his own words
I press forward
and rest my elbows on my knees
and my chin on my hands
I can still hear you
in my peripheral audition
trashing
nodding
rubbing your eyes
with your thumb and index
with that smile
making a show
of your disappointment
You were once in his shoes
reading your own work
self-conscious and vulnerable
full of doubt
and hate
Then someone called you "good"
then another
and another
and now you're this
The breathing image of what it
means to be a Poet
and aren't you just so **** *poetic

The path was lonely
but
company is not too hard to find these days

Some sweaty rags and a
patched army coat
emerged from a dark
alleyway and
waved me in his direction

he approached me
with his friend
which I couldn't see

but it was dark

so I think
along with some money
I will give him the benefit of the doubt
since it is too typical
to assume that if a homeless man is talking
it is to himself

He began to whisper
and inch towards my face
His breath smelled something
that could only
be described in eulogy
Underneath his tumbleweed beard
were deep ridges
filled with dirt and sweat
and wear

It seems
the Grand Canyon had a son
and disowned him

His advice hit my face
with golden plaque
from the gaps of his teeth
Things will get better soon, my friend
some guffaws and a handshake later
he jumped back off his feet
and into the dark

I continued home
to my own boxed alleyway
thinking it was five minutes
well spent

If I ever went back to that
dark of a street
I will hope that he is gone
to find a brighter one

It's beginning
to look
a lot
like
last Christmas

We catch each other's faces
From other ends of the store
We're walking towards eachother
I remember us in grade school
Young
Naive
Giggling about which girl
was the cutest
Like six year old men do
Learning math
And grammar
And art
And other life lessons
Which unconsciously stuck with me
And about friendship
I knew you then
Like a brother
So now here we are
After some years
Running into each other at a grocery store
I wonder why you're in town
I wonder how your life has been
I wonder what happened with your parents
There's so much to catch up on
So much to laugh about
And to cry about
We're pretty close now
I shove into my pockets for my cell phone
You stop and shuffle and look away
You pretend you need to go down a different aisle
I pretend to look at canned soup
As if neither of us noticed
You think I might not remember
You think I don't know your name
And possibly you have forgotten mine
It is better to ignore these things though
For the sake of a small possibility
It could have been uncomfortable
And real

I could
Talk about nature
Or give you my opinion on a subject
I could describe the
Unmistakable beauty
Of everything that is and ever was
Before us
I could touch your heart
With the tip of my pen
I could arrange words from my
Internal thesaurus
on this very page
That could move you
And change the way you see the world
Or even yourself!
I could
But
I’m tired
Maybe tomorrow

I watched a play on Words
And you watched me jump on conclusions
I guess my bushes are worth birds
And your mixing good solutions

You let your eyes cross a road
That led pencils into paper
I get past the fact my frog was towed
To let the fire escape her

Our suits look so similar
I guess we can call it a tie
I could not forgive a helping hand
When your all time low is so high

My factory is dripping with sweaters and books
Both of which have been red
My eye is ugly from the way it looks
And I've never seen living so dead

The tree waved goodbye
To old friends, some autumn leaves
Waving killed some more

It's been a long time.

Fields of orange trees are torn
from their roots
to make room for
a thousand empty wooden boxes to be
planted in their place
There these empty boxes wait
longing
for the warmth of a family
To be furnished
And painted
And remembered
and
How it longs
To watch kids play
safely in its living room
To have the dog trample
through it's
neatly cared for lawn
To smell dads cooking
fill every square foot
To see moms face
when she finally returns
from a long day of work
To have love absorbed into its fibers
and stand out amongst the rest
To be decorated for the passing seasons
with other things besides
rust and snow
It dreams of these
things
It knows it could be more than
just a box
So there it sits
And sighs
And waits

It's been a long time.

(In progress)

I hear the humming
of your voice
in the blurred darkness
behind my phone's screen
I look occasionally
And smile
And nod
You mention a city
something like where you were from
I like Greg's photo
You blah further about
your parents or something
I text Jerry about a recipe for a good salsa
I begin to talk
To your glowing
distant face
This goes on for quite some time
We sit in silence
in the backseat of the cab
tapping frantically
religiously
communicating
somewhere else
I hug her goodnight
and suggest to meet again soon
But
I probably won't call her
We had nothing in common

My other truck is one that works
My other sweater's warm

My other food is nutritious
My other bed is a mattress

My other family is alive
My other friend is close

My other heart's not bitter &
My other life is a good one

If I could make it so
This
Night sky would be endless

I could write you a
Poem
You wouldn't understand

The tide is rising, it
Doesn't
Matter to us yet

There's so much room to
Make
Stars in the sky above

What marvelous delights! Though
Any
Thing has no taste

It's in you now I feel a
Sense
You are lost in all your maps

On planet naked
I met a girl that I liked
She's an X-Ray star

I tighten the knot on
My tie
I brush the shoulders off
On my jacket
And rap to it
This interview should be better
Than the last one.
I'm hoping the manager
Will realize I've been a loyal
Safeway customer since
As long as I can remember
I swallow the pinball
In my throat
Hatched from
Nervousness
Or
Nervousity
Or
Nervousonification
Or, I don't know
I'm nervous.

For some reason he shuts
The blinds, this is more
Serious than I thought
I suppose.
I sit frozen in my chair
Like the Lincoln Memorial
Except I don't stand for anything.

I step out into the warmth of
The real world
I grab a brick and throw it
Through the front wall of glass
Protecting the grocery shoppers
From the sun
I stop over at the cafe
For a milkshake
Strawberry
I went to a different store
To get the laundry detergent
She told me to get
Because we had a coupon
But I forgot the coupon
So I just went home

It was a busy day today.

A thousand sunsets
the clouds burn up over them
I'm busy texting

I sit on rocks pondering
Life's
Big Questions

What is it that makes
A
Person a person?

And why did that
*****
Have to leave me?

I skip a stone across the water
And
Watch the ripples meet

If I had known
Then
What I know blah blah blah

If I could only see
You
For who you really are

And if I could only
Die
Without complaining about it

The Cow showed up late
for his shift at the office.
They slaughtered his ***

I did not send you
a card, but perhaps i'll write
something on Facebook

We all left the Diner
waiting to talk
about how no one was talking
and how special you were
for being the only one to notice
and to find it funny
and to call it awkward
and to forget about the night
no one will remember
and you were a part of

I heard poet's have to
be the world's observers
So here I am
Trying to be a good poet
Observing things.

I walk

Through the park
Picturing the poetry
of my surroundings

The day is whatever
Flowers, Bees, Wheelbarrows
Sure, that's all fine
I will leave it for others
to express with their words

I keep walking

I see a man
mowing the grass
Humbly dressed in an
Orange vest
wiping off his life dreams
with the sleeves of his shirt
Grass sticks to his forehead

I keep walking

An older man
but not old
sits alone at a park bench
His face is buried
into the infinite
comforting darkness
of his hands
Tears break free from the cracks

I keep walking

I see a woman
She is not with me
She is happy

I keep walking

I see a kid
playing baseball
He looks sharply at his parents
every second
Dad is on his cell phone
Mom sleeps on her lit cigarette in the minivan
At least they showed up

I keep walking

Down by the lake
I see my reflection
I see myself
Aged
Scared
Alone
A good poet observes things

The reflection is in my bathroom mirror
There was no park
I didn't actually observe these things
I lay flat on my back
My skin sweats against the tile
I grasp the empty
Orange bottle
close to my chest
I try to observe more things
before it's too late
So I can be a good poet
So I can be remembered

I observe the flickering lightbulb that
I should have changed
I observe the towels that
she hated
and don't match the shower curtain
I observe my cold sweat
mixing with the warmth of my tears
A good poet observes things
The light bulb burns out