Lovers in the lines disappearing
Folding fading

Hazy in the midnight
Waning grey

My eyes were flickering lights
Passing stories unsaid
And a comfort I can’t remember

Curve gone crooked
I left my head here
I left my head

Misread your softness
Misspoke some promise
Blurred in the wind

I walk down the street and see an old person struggling up a flight of stairs. I stop a moment to get the door for her. At lunch I overhear a woman talking to her daughter about how tight finances are, so I ask the waitress to give me their ticket and I buy their meal. Though I am not rich and famous, though I may never be widely known. I look for ways to leave my mark as I go. With each act of kindness and each gift of mercy, I hope to impress upon my fellow human that they can do the same. While kings may build monuments and the famous may champion their own cause, the simplest acts of humanity are what leave a true mark behind as we go.

Seven "Wire" girls
One after the other,
Before being blessed
With our baby brother,

Seven "Wire" girls
The first was Elise,
Followed by Annie
Before Margaret made three,

Ruby arrived in the middle
As the case may be,
Not to be left behind
Along came Mimi,

Sweet Stella and Mary
Brought up the rear,
Before the appearance
Of brother D.G. so dear,

All the children
Of Maggie and J.B.,
Now you know as much as me
About our family genealogy.


August 8, 1995

I) Tell me about the beautiful boy you fell in love with. Tell me about how he bought you lilacs right before he broke your heart, and please don’t apologize for the ache in your chest each time you walk past the florist on Sunday mornings. I’m sorry you thought his eyes were your forever; I’m sorry you thought his arms were your only home.

II) Tell me about the way he spit out lies instead of kisses; and curse at the fact that he threw out all of your letters. I’m sorry about all those nights you spent etching pieces of your heart onto paper; I’m sorry you couldn't sleep for months after he told you that he loved her.

III) Tell me about how you’re getting better; talk endlessly about the fading lines on your wrists and tell me about how you've finally erased the acrid taste of his kisses. I’m sorry he will never be lucky enough to lose himself within the creases of your lips again.

IV) It’s been a year now my darling; and yesterday you told me you’re starting to see, that you’re the only home you’ll ever really need.

It isn't who you party with at night, but rather who can you sit in a comfortable silence with the next morning over coffee and hazy eyes and still find the strength and energy for a full belly laugh over some stupid insignificance