I used to wrestle
On my trampoline
I used to fly
On my swing set
I used to skateboard
In my driveway
I used to ride bmx
When I finished fixing the neighbors
I used to be an artist
When I was too bored to read a book
I wasnt always a poet
Just happened to die one

I’ve seen many fall
Watched even more
Rise to the occasion
Tackling oxygen deficiency
Then fall to the gusts
There are those
That died standing
Never a limb breaking
The surviving corpse
Of an era no longer in observation
Limbs still reaching
Clinging onto the faint hope
It’ll see the day
The children stop climbing
And start flying

You ever hear the story
Where everybody’s dream came true
Where life seemed to stand still
Happiness an infinite natural resource
Death could be cheated
Rock paper and scissors
An easy victory


Me either
Just wishful thinking

5’11” tall
2’6” wide
I’m a pillar of nothing
A faceless headstone
Moving around
Scouring the earth
For my final resting place
My grave lost
A hollow tomb
Unmarked
Waiting to be inscribed
With all the horrors of my misdeeds
The only good thing
To follow my soul
Will be the worms and grubs
As they hollow out my eyelids

Oceans of green
Only making waves
When the wind blows
Leaps of faith
As crickets jump at opportunities
Bullfrogs moaning for attention
Oaks stretching up and out
Touching their toes
As time puts another ring on
Imagination making shapes
Out of cotton-ball pillows
The world around me
Quiet and quaint
As long as I’m alone
Without the bickering voices
Of politicians and dramatics
Peace is never too far out of reach
It’s just a few steps past the wood line
Where man has yet to travel