I'm as transient as pollen today
but yesterday I was just floating like a gossamer
watching the wind blow seeds off of dandelions
and the daylight drum on the daffodils

white water lilies in my bedroom and cool jasmine at my window
the perfumed petals seeping into my psyche
no, I don't love you dearest
I only love the cloudless sky

the sun sets at 4'oclock central time
it's not right, it's not real

and when I turn off the lights and sit in silence.
I am in a constant state of overstimulation


I want it all

conversations and conundrums
songs you hum at night
voids we might fill with the words you dangle from your ballpoint pen
imagined, enamored, unreal

Rainy summer day,
storming actually
The kind of day that made you want to crawl under the covers and forget yourself
drift off to sleep

Still
despite the navy skies
It was still summer

summer means peaches
big ones, bursting, dripping
honey nectar and sunshine

so we make a peach pie
cinammon and sugar sticking to our fingers like slow molasses
underscored by the constant drip, slip, flooding
arranging produce like composers

and we waited
we waited for the pie to bake
we waited for the crust to crisp, for the sugars to melt,
for the peaches to ripen, to brown and butter
we waited for the rain to stop
we waited for sunshine, for dry shoes, for beach days, powerlines
we waited for hours
we waited for months
we waited eighteen years
we sat, and we stood, and we waited.

We sat in front of the oven
eyes pressed against the window
we waited
watched the sugars bubble, the scented cloves
we were two years old and one hundred at the same time
we waited for the kind of lives that we saw in movies
the kinds of dreams you wanted so bad it hurt
we waited with stomachs churning
wasting our youth, one rainy afternoon at a time
waiting for life to begin

Rainy summer day,
storming actually
The kind of day that made you want to crawl under the covers and forget yourself
forget about the peaches
forget about summer, about friends,
about anyone and anything
drift off to sleep

I like driving at night


indigo nights in the odd hours of the morning
my tired eyes adjust to the rhythm of the traffic
a slow fluid, tempo, melting into soft orange lights
cars slip in and out of my consciousness

the street illuminated in artificial glows
and manufactured air fills my lungs
forming goosebumps on my skin
my eyes are growing weary

the radio static, constant
tuned to 91.3
plays liquid jazz
dewdrops on my weary mind
and my pulse fills the empty spaces in the bassline

the music melts into the rhythm
the soft lull of the engine humming
the crescendo and decrescendo of tires on pavement
a lullaby

the reflectors twinkle on street
like artificial stars
and the highway-- a tangle of progress
unravels before me

my eyes slip into a dream

I like driving at night
but one day I won't

darling, don't get me wrong
I do know the truth
of darkness and blackness, the depth of dark blue
but darling lately I detect only the rosier hues
the sunlight and sun's breath
a kiss on the hand
the pink, sanguine shores of this blossoming land
I see promise and hope
the American Dream
in ten milligrams each day
All appears what it seems

Darling, don't get me wrong
I do know all else
the lull of the silence
of my innermost self

on grassy lawns
and rolling fields
a blanket of flowers
a blanket of ice
florida snow seems so strange

flowers in the middle of december