The caramel corn has taken on a subtle hint of hand sanitizer.
It is enough to **** all the germs.
A kernel escapes and the search party is unsuccessful.

The tile in the bathroom reminds me of other jobs.
Janitorial work,
cleaning up after others.
The tiles in my store were larger and dirtier.

I can't think,
this headache is raging a war.
Aided by my cube neighbors fan.
I snore at night and dream of helicopters.

Things usually come back around to bite you,
like a snake
or NASCAR.
America,
the Land of the Free.

I have lied so much that
it comes out as the truth.

A rusty swing set sits in the backyard,
choked by weeds and broken furniture.
The overstuffed purple couch
has seen better days.
Tonight,
it will sleep alone.

When I am feeling down I count the ceiling tiles,
getting lost at fourteen.
Fifteen is a liar.

What would happen if the stars did re-align?
Just for one day,
the cost of beer wouldn't be so high.
Then again,
the liquor store on Jefferson sells Tallies for $1.19.
Let's not be greedy.
I will buy two of them to make sure that when I sleep tonight,
it is soundly.

The phone keeps ringing with complaints.
People are more interested in their neighbors
than the fire.

Forget about this poem.
It is better if you just skim this literary travesty.
There is no substance.

This new day is failing
and it will soon be cleansed.
Forgive me Father,
for I have sinned.
Please,
watch over those I care most about.

When out of a clear sky, the bright

Sky over Japan, they tumbled the

death of light,

For a moment, it's said, there was

brilliance sword-sharp,

A dazzle of white, and then dark.

Into the cavernous blackness, as

home to hell,

Agonies crowded; and high above

in the swell

Of the gentle tide of the sky, lucid

and fair,

Men floated serenely as angels

disporting there.

beneath the star-struck, eternal vast,
    painted black, blue-grey black -
voices blister of the past.

haven't felt this way in quite some time.
    the restless nights. this cold, empty bed.
unrhythmic breaths flood my chest
    as I watch my mother die
                         for the second time.

it's moments like these you never forget.
    find yourself waking in a cold, hot sweat.
mind tracing every syllable, every breath;
    remembering every word you should have said.

with eyes like a beating heart;
   smells of daisy wanderlust.
soul-fire like passion's spark;
   worn-out smiles like last night's luck.

The crisp cold air
The dark night skies
The black clouds
The moon, gone
The stars, unseen
Dark
Dreary
Destitute
And yet it doesn't phase me
Because that's how it will always be
In my own world
A world without you

we lie, tangled.
her body and mine.
motionless, fingertips
to skin.

the voice inside my head
no longer speaks

weary of missing just one word.
or worse, breaking the silence.

it's truly perfect.

flashback

she called for the first time in a few months.

"Hi." She said.
"Hey, what's up?" I ask.
"Just got off work, wanna come over?"
"Sure."

flash-forward

she knew exactly what I would say
and it always ends the same.

the thought of her, replacing what
some call sleep, had almost rested.
now, here i am.. too late or too
early into the morning,
thinking of her and writing
to ease my trembling hand.