I wanted to give it to her,
But mountains are kinda
Hard to wrap and
I don't own one,
Anyway.

Dry comfort this,
That losing reads bitterly against
Both our tongues.

Early morning rain,
Barely wet my car, but-
Oh, the cat.

You who ask the hard questions
Never seem prepared for any answers.
What purpose your rebellion?
Critic in the abstract,
Cherisher of words. Only words, mere
Angry echo.
Come Revolution!
Show me your toothless rage,
Carried by amputee feet.
The tyrants lie that way,
Dear Children of Cause.

Devotion was  a moment
When I loved you for existing,
For breath and sleep and talk.

It exists, still.
Somewhere deep away from you,
Or it will revive and burn
Just watching you sit.

Untitled, unsettled,
Unstable-
So many orphan children,
Written in little rows.
Still I-
Would rather lack a name
Than miscall one.

A lovely night.
Perched on porch rails,
Beautiful in half-light is my man.
Come crickets: Spell and spill a symphony
As I watch him,
Living in a glow which is not mine,
No, never; Earth is not so generous
With me.