Where am I right now
Light flowing
Like a waterfall
It's beautiful - stars are the size of my
Fingernails
Even up close
I pick them up, and put them back
In a backdrop of black, it's lovely
Foreign languages spoken
Softly, low
Voices like cream
Whatever this place is -

It must be a dream

Carpenter hands
Painter's pants
Shirts stained with
Tough white - marks that
Stump even Billy Mayes
(this poem not endorsed by Oxi-Clean, the easy stain remover)
But that's okay -
It gives you character
The way that each pizza
Crust has a different flavor
Texture, color, thickness
It's all a new experience
Right?
Soft-white glow of your
Phone at night
The window to the left
Letting in the streetlight
It's nice, you and I

If I had a lot of wood
A whole lot
Like, a lumberyard or a forest's worth
I'd build a boat
A really BIG boat
And I'd take it to the ocean
And live freely with the fish and the urchins
And the squid too
I'd chat with the 'gulls
And feed them little mackerel
And smile as the storms came
Because my boat would be big enough
That it could handle the winds
It would be super tall
And really skinny
That would be funny
Although that design isn't really conducive
To being safe on the sea -
I still like the thought

Solarium seashells trickle
Down the mountain brook
Through the java fern
Dancing with the salmon
And the freshwater eel
Gently coming together
Like a liquid windchime
How lovely could this be?
Not much more
Than it is

This TV is so fuzzy
I can barely make out
The subtitles
Why is the text white
When the background
Is mostly white too?
It's just weird
Odd - the things I see
The things I feel
And the things I dream
How funny does that sound?
Funny, but not humorous
I'll rest on that
Though
Laugh my way
Through
And it'll be alright
It usually is
But these dreams of something
Are pervasive
For sure.

Nestled in the mountains
Like a tree, birch or pine
Definitely a tall one
But kind of short, too
Medium-sized, I suppose
Two windows, glass
Seaglass, a pretty blue
Kind of green
Teal-colored, I think
Cerulean might be a better
Descriptor
Stone stuck together
The outside is pretty
Cobblestone, not brick
Like it was made in the Middle Ages
Or maybe the Stone Age
Yeah, that makes more sense
It's pretty here
Like a sunny day
Or a rainy evening
One of the two
Or both
I don't know
I just don't
But I want
To be here

Where Galveston sits
Right off the coast
A deeply Southern
Emerald Isle
The seawall stretches
Follow its path
And bathe in the salt
The sharks wouldn't
Mind at all, I'm sure
Silver sand dollar
Razor sharp clams
Dog running along the coast
Trying to catch
The seafoam
But it disappears right away
Still, tongue hanging out
Happy
Sunlight, raining down
Little house, mid-town
Seems
nice