I forget how much I'm a fool sometimes
when I'm struck by something beautiful
a thousand locks of tangled brown hair
or the sights outside a blustery window
I have to catch myself falling in mid-air
slow my mind and attach to my thoughts
the rules I am supposed to initially apply
when made a fool by something beautiful.

A soft hat makes it considerably easier
to avoid the inevitable purple headache
it's always too warm in the winter here
everyone wears their coat and sweater
but the heat stays on for courtesy

don't let the voice wake you
as often as it wakes everyone
you know it's coming so drown it out
with something sweet in headphones
like Tom Petty or the Nutcracker Suite

sometimes peacefulness surprises you
on your way to Rosedale in the dark
submerged in December outerwear
falling asleep against the cool glass
of the southbound train window.

Some nights are not as good as others
for example I have never loved Thursdays
no Thursday is what you want it to be
and no Thursday night offers enough rest

some nights, maybe Thursdays, I'm awake
laying where I'd sleep with eyes closed
but mind wide open, wishing to be empty
or filled with whatever rest has to offer it

I lay lucid, still as sand, wishing gently
for your warm hand in my hair, shirt
wrapped in me, pressing me into oblivion
on a stupid sleepless Thursday night.

They felt
like raindrops

a fall night's cool dark air
gently pushing me backward

the unexpected satin drip
down my cheeks and
the side of my nose

blink

and one
before the other
they burst on my shoes

one, two
three

four

marks on
black leather
as I walk home
in October wind.

Dear man in the moon,

I wish to know what it is
you've to teach me from this,
and would you perhaps consider
taking unsolicited requests?
I seem to have found myself
the happiest I've ever been;
please allow in the thought
of not taking this away
from me, from them
I'll not say this lightly
but I need them.

How
musical
we feel

brushing
against
each other

a slow dance
of clumsy graces
a waltz in soft touch

socks
on the faux hardwood
kitchen floor.

I am home in the embrace
of a home that misses me
returning from long days
among the cold rejections
of the great, dark outside.