I met you at the station
you said wanted to go anywhere but here.

I said to look for the tracks that
are the most uninviting. You
took my arm. I wished for

something better and here it came,
disguised by dirt, dislocation and greying days.

Your ticket says no return but
mine is undefined, watchful, ready
to bolt or to linger. You say you love
the stations from afar.

There's not much of me
requested, but the splinters that you
do, I gift hopelessly. The

smallest glimpse of light approaching
filtered through dank, oppressive air
are superior, surely? than finite life
exhausted watching the dark.

By the night you amplify,
when you have enjoyed my fill and
left with little but fingerprints and
recollections, casting parallel shadows
on directions that await.

I give you almost everything
except for the words that
travel nowhere but my head.

You gave me the signal
a briefest flash of red
that stopped this in its tracks.

Stevie G!
What will Liverpool be,
Without you,
Your the one,
Our only son,
But what's done is done,

Stevie G!
What will football be,
Without you,
Your the best,
Above the rest,
In the north west,

Stevie G!
What will we be,
Without you,
Your our heart,
It's broken apart,
You have a new start,

Stevie G!
You will always be,
Our hero lad,
Good luck to you,
In all you do,
We love you,

Stevie G!
Remember me,
Without you,
Liverpool will cry,
Tears in our eye,
When you say goodbye,
To our Stevie G.

in the fold of a leaf
droplets like moss
an army of dew
in early light
clubbers go home
i used to know that
the knees gave out
from the funk & dip
crackers & cheese
as the bass deepens
flaring nostrils
I forgot your number
& you forgot giving it to me
we're even stephen
the bar just registers
cashflow humming
the bank opens
what was my
pin

For Tyson, My Love

Never will I meet another like you
Your light shone brighter than the Sun.
Your coo was as beautiful as a robin's song
carried on the wind.
Your smile was unfathomably contagious.
The way you would cut your eyes
and smile so knowingly...
As if you held a secret
Just between you and me...
and when you smiled,
I felt I knew it too.
There will never be an answer.
No reason could ever be sufficient.
You came here as an Angel,
and as an Angel you did leave us.
I am honored to have known you
For even a short while.
You may have only been a baby
But your spirit felt 100 years old...
And although your time here seemed limited,
the imprint you left is infinite.
You are ageless.
You are the embodiment of love.
You are my Guardian.
My Angel Elite.
My watchtower.
My lighthouse.
My baby. Forever.
Mine Grumble Grumble
Mine Squishee Man.
Mine Love.
Until my last breathe.
And even after...

The Sun is burning the wrong color
A street lamp instead of a god
Intruding light
Newspaper shreds blow down the street
A wet Silence
The empty glare clings
A fog you can't see without

Scalding the Horizon
The Sun darkens with the blood of the Sky
Day's fatality on His hands
A ruddy end
Florid in its death throes
The gray creeps over
Until fading to the black of decay

The black of the womb
The gray of the Dawn
Pale thighs stained pink with Life
The golden infant crowns
Body still tinged with blood
Heaven lifts Her child
Trying to see His face
Only to lose and birth Him again

I am easy to love and
easy (very easy) to hate.

I sing you, with my voice, to sleep,
and
your voicemail sings me to sleep.
It evens out. I often say this.

Love isn't the same here.
Love here is full of cigarette smoke and
fruit, kissed by flies before it's ever
touched by my lips.

And yet, for some reason,
I don't miss the love there. I don't
miss the chase, or the brazen looks.

This isn't much of a poem, it isn't
written in the
style
or (as my teacher would say)
with the artistry
of a true poem.
But it is my two minute poem for
you, even though you will
not read it.

The remote control looks different
Television has 20 new channels
The side table is not on the right side of the long bench anymore
Her favorite mug is now a vase
Her spoon and fork are not in the drawer
No cookie crisps in the cupboard
No kimchi in the fridge
Things were different from when she still lived here
Things were different from three years ago

Everyone is soundly sleeping upstairs
Her old room is now her cousin's
Her old bed is now her sister's
She will sleep on the floor
But she couldn't find the mattresses
She doesn't know where to look
But she looks everywhere
She couldn't find it
Exhaustion and frustration seeps in
“Where are the mattresses?"
She screams in her head
Tears start streaming down her cheeks

She wants to sleep now
She wants to rest
She wants to feel home.
But she doesn't. She couldn't.
She doesn't know where the sheets are
She couldn't find where the sheets are.

“I don't live here anymore. This is not home."