there's a portable television showing a map
of the world with concerned voices behind it
reporters tell us to take it as it comes
and that every exit is now blocked
there's reason to run and there's reason to fear
as the news blares in pixels and decibels
and we bite our lips when we realise that
to run is human but to fear is divine
so until further notice we hide inside
pretending no bravery so our god will
save us in our weakest, most human moment
God watches the news too, don't you know

-c.j.

Allison came in late, always
she loved to dance in ballrooms, too
perhaps she'll learn to waltz in time, in time

-c.j.

to break her heart you'll need more than a needle of course
a knife sharpened minutes ago can cut cleanly-
is that what you intend to make, a clean break?
it will hurt far more if you go halway
and stop
heartstrings taut, reminding onlookers of a harp
created by a blade trimmed keenly and sharp
to break her heart you must damage it but not
beyond repair
or else, you see, she'd simply get another one
this way it's stuck in her chest, unright,
mending each fibre until the ache is only
a phantom hurt
it will merely be a vague pang, eventually
you may sharpen your knife now

-c.j.

and the suburban war begins with blood
because we were raised by wolves
there are no cardinal rules
just keep watch while your friends sleep
and succumb to the inevitability of
a heartless empire, yet again
fight outside the windows, we are trying to
keep the houses holy
we have never said anything about the insides
of us, though, and blood still spills

-c.j.

for your birthday I'll write you a novel
no surprises there, just acquiesce to my stories
of the street just east of Eden where we made our choice
notes resembling thoughts in the back of your head-
I'll release them, bring to life what you thought was dead

-c.j.

does the speed of sound and that of light
ever resonate in unison?
thunder and lightning bolt coincidences?
as this pen runs out I lose my mind and know
I started something I couldn't finish
sound, light, parallel or not in speed
a phenomenon under naïve speculation
until poetic justice arrives or the teacher
speaks science to me in harsh monotonous rote
does it matter if I know? knowledge- isn't that power?
power is not knowledge, however, and the voltage
of the skies won't quit until I have an answer

-c.j.

I graduated twelve days ago
oh, how odd it is to be classless
not in a desk and not in a crowd
who am I if no one will tell me?
maybe it's just like when we were kids
adults paint the walls and we paint
the canvas
belittled for reasons we could not know
at the time
the adults write the checks and we write
the essays
I am growing, but whether it is up or left or right
I don't know

-c.j.