Audrey is adopted,
She feels quite out of place,
In a house of strangers,
Affections go to waste.

Audrey cloaked in twilight,
With one foot in the grave,
"We'll send you to another home
If you do not behave."

Audrey wanders offwards,
Into the milky way,
Of cardboard homes and foreign tomes,
To find a place to stay.

Audrey misses long hair,
And so I'm here to fill,
The hole left by her sisters,
Who left against their will.

Audrey has no option,
But sleeping on the ground,
Deep inside our foster house,
While Mother's not around.

Audrey is adopted,
She's feeling all alone,
She's taken herself for a walk;
I hope she comes back home.

I live on Melancholy Hill
A place quite hard to find

I live my life running low on serotonin
The gasoline that makes me go

I will never be fully satisfied
Curiosity and creativity go hand in hand

I stare out over my hill and wait
Always waiting and waiting to be rescued

I live my life in my mind
Talking has never been a strong suit

I sit on my hill with a megaphone
Its the only way I'm heard

I am rarely seen, always listening, and perpetually dying
People forget about me

I am told I have a black soul
Only I like the way it feels

I feel every emotion more than other people
Highly sensitive and dramatic

I know when you're lying
But sometimes I'm wrong

I can't seem to get happy
My happiness depending on others

I have goals and dreams
They are as far away as the stars J loves

I love too deeply
It never gets returned

I am learning to be myself
Doing things because I want to

I walk down my hill and into the the forest
A map has not been supplied

I live on Melancholy Hill
Forever feeling too deeply, Hardly ever happy.

If she wasn’t hooked on honey
she would fall down on my page
I rescued a blue-winged bee sage
I hope she’ll enjoy her stay
in my human home
She strains her abdomen
I pray it’s not a bad omen
her Hermes powers at rest
Did she leave her nest in earnest
I found her on lonely gray stairs
I pray she heals from her despairs
as the carpenter bee sleeps dangled
To my honey lathered chopsticks
I admire her frail black body
I gently blow on her she’s inside
my heart. I felt hers when she
Gripped my thumb.

March 13, 2018
Lyon

for now I don't want to know where I just came from
nor how long it's been
I don't want to picture the blisters nor the bleeding
nor smell the fumes
I don't want to remember the flood nor how the leak
was sprung
I don't want to hear about who perished and who survived
nor think about who might still be threading water
for now
the dead will have to bury the dead
the sick will have to tend the sick
the broken will have to help mend the broken
and themselves
as we do, as we must do
for now
I don't want to know about who fired the first shot
nor whether or not I'm going to drown in this life raft
for now
the foghorn, the light house, the shore
the lapping of water beneath me
for now
the foghorn
the light house
the shore
the lapping
the shore
the light house
the foghorn
the lapping
the water

i need virginia.
and so do you.

virginia is the flickering lights
of an emergency room vacation.

virginia is the bruise on your cheek
from a cafe seizure.

virginia is the moment you realized
you changed your favorite color, without ever asking yourself first.

virginia is understanding that nothing we do will ever change what will be.

virginia is your pink wet tongue frozen
to the telephone poll.

virginia is the moment at the funeral
when you realize you've never seen a dead body before.

virginia is all those times you stole lighters from the corner store
and all the times you never got caught.

virginia is the woman you sleep with, after you crash your car on the freeway.

virginia is who you call on the phone, when you think it's all over.

virginia is a story worth telling.
let it breathe.
let it breathe.
let it breathe

two men
outside a starbucks
chainsmoking through
a saturday lunch

the sun is up
melting the snow at my feet
i wait for a bus that never comes

An angel stripped of her halo,
locked in a dungeon
of self-doubt and heartbreak,
longs to be saved.

She dreams of her knight in shining armor
rescuing her from the fear onto which she clings,
the same fear that stifles her uttermost dreams.

But her saving grace must fight his own battle,
a ferocious war between the good he once found in her heart
and the evil that still plagues his own mind.

The bright light that used to shine from within her eyes
has lessened to a mere glimmer of fluctuating hope,
and her once supple lips have slowly but steadily dried,
for it has been so long since they tasted freedom.

But what must it take for this beauty to be saved?

She has been taken from a world of wonder,
a planet of peaceful longing and generous love,
into an isolated cell unto which no living being has stumbled.

For this prison is within her own mind.

And it is up to her
to save herself.

No cavalry
No rescue
No care
No balm
No dressing
Just an open sore.
And salt
- lots of salt.
Where can I find refuge?
Where does my comfort lie?
Oh Father,
My shield
My strength
It's only you.

majestic white herons,a siege,
spring up, winging skywards
in unison, as if according to a
well designed rescue plan,
following a disaster,
scattering to all directions
from a tree,a flame of the forest
imposing and wildly bloomed,
like a high rise with secret ambitions,
creating an illusion of a sudden fire accident.