In the garden of
worthless hellos
the yellowed smiles
all show their
appreciation to each other
and to the passing sky
unaware
that they move
and the sky
hasn't gone
anywhere

Woke up on
the wrong side
of the world again
today
and thought about
how we never meant
all those things
we never said
all along these secret streets
going nowhere
never returning
illuminated only by
forgotten bulbs
all failing in
incandescence.

I saw a cat today
a kitten, actually
orange and white
with its guts spilled out
on the street
and as I drove by it kept
trying to get up
and I cried and cried
because it was suffering and
I could not help

I saw it again later
one with the road
now unrecognizable
in death
and I felt a degree of relief
because it was done
and there was no more kitten
trying to drag
its loosed insides
across the cold pavement
near 28th and University
and in that moment
I understood
why some people opt for
the permanent solution
instead of suffering
with their insides out
on the street
as everyone else passes by
unaware

she walks
unbridled
through the
gardens of sunset
and plants all
turn to see just
what radiance has
come into the
garden of Eden

what Eve shall remain
as we grow old together
and our suns
begin their descents
into tomorrow?

Pitch dark rumbling
as the plane crawled
into the night sky
away from you once again

and out the window I saw
blinking
another plane perhaps
taking other lives along
their given paths

and I looked again
and saw only the stars
against the blackened infinity
and in those stars
I saw only you

It's easier to talk
in obscurity and metaphor
than it is to be honest
with ourselves
because it sounds more
pleasant to be tossed around
at sea
than to be sitting quietly
at the bottom of
a well in a rainstorm

Maybe original sin
is just a term
we gave to
justify
our inability
to believe
in anything
so pure
as love

sand
silt
clay
water
sunlight
sunlight
sunlight
oh lord
how I miss your light
and my back aches
as it stretches from
horizon to horizon
as I watch the day
and among the elite
the sunflowers
the zinnias
and the forgotten
I root deeper and deeper
because warmth is found within
this world
within ourselves
and some of us have lost that knowledge
that growth

Someone I chose to forget
once told me that everyone
is blessed with gifts
and his was that he could lucid dream
and I thought it was stupid
but didn't say anything
because through fist and word
I was blessed with
the gift of a fragile heart
that breaks more for people than
it has ever beat for me
because mama I'm a god ******
coward
and I'm always on the run from an
unnameable dread
that some have called
love

Another plane
homeward bound
and once again
Texas feels a little
colder
without you

I'm stuck
in a perpetual loop
of longing for something
that I don't know
how to explain
but it comes out when
I listen to all-female
pop rock bands
and I want to be anywhere
but here

Deep breaths
in and out
and we recite the mantra
that one has sangria
on a Wednesday
to reward ourselves
for just how normal
everything is
and that we definitely
haven't been
dreaming about leaving
everyone behind
and running off into
the Italian countryside
to find a nice picturesque spot
to cease existing

I imagine a scenario
in my head where
my father stood in the doorway
before he left and pondered
his decision to leave

this of course
never happened
and he just unceremoniously took off
one day
(yawn. Am I right?)

but hey,
it's just another day
where we tell ourselves
the stories that make sense
or at least sound a bit less
boring in eyes of the audience
for whom we're constantly
performing

The tide is high
on this downward spiral
but I'm not seasick yet
despite riding the endless
current
and staring into the belly
of a whirlpool
and waiting for that
abyss
to stare back

One of these poems
could probably be a suicide note
and we're just not
aware
of it yet.

I'm still
down about
the little kitty cat
and I think my
other cat
knows because she's
relaxing with me
while I listen to
an old Doobie Brothers
record
even though she's more of a
Marty Robbins kind of cat
so that's how
I know she's thinking
of me.

Lily dear
my greenhouse queen
you were the spunkiest
little kitten I knew
and I hope that
maybe you're up
in the greenhouses of
Valhalla
or
heaven
or
paradise
and that you're doing
a good job keeping
the birds and mice away
and they don't have
automatic windows in
heaven
Lily
you don't have to worry
anymore.

Dance! Quickly!
Across the
nihilistic
field day
that is Wednesday morning
where the world has gone mad
and we still can almost
keep our heads up
amid the headlines
and fake-real-fake news cycles
and see humanity moving forward while
the world is coming to an end
and we'll all hold hands before
the cosmos
and say
"Well, it wasn't MY fault."

This coffee shop
serves its tea
in small lightbulb
shaped carafes
and I appreciate that
because
all the best ideas
have been had
over a cup of tea

We continue to act as though
we humans were the first to
discover the beauty
of nature
and that the birds
haven't been singing
about it since the
first little Finch
chirped and created
music as we know it

through circumstance once
I ended up at a punk concert
where I saw a middle-aged
man dressed as a greaser
complete with a leather jacket
and spikes
and I felt under dressed for the occasion
and uncomfortable in my skin
until he punched some kid
with a mohawk in the face
and was asked to leave

what will happen
to our electronic
umbilical cords
when the power
finally goes out?

I read somewhere once
that sailors on the open sea
would often see mermaids
in the water
and I find it so
delightfully human that they tried
to find wonder and amazement
out where no human life can thrive
and perhaps the mermaids were an
anxiety
or a reflection of the lack of humanity
in the open sea
like how we reflect ourselves off of smoke
and mirrors through hallowed halls
of social media and shares and tweets and likes
to give the impression of humanity
where
there is none
to be
found

Fool me once
Shame on me
Fool me twice
And leave me with scars
forever unhealed

Given all the things
humanity is doing
on the land in the name
of Gods and Science
is it really that bad of an idea
to want to live on the open sea
where at least the
sharks look you in the eye
before tearing you in half

It is the silence
between strikes
of lightning
that gives
thunder any
real meaning
but that does not mean
you shouldn't speak

A **** is nothing but a plant
in the wrong place

go find a flower bed
that works for you

bloom.

I really shouldn't
get another cat
but they just
keep finding me
and wrapping themselves
around my leaks and holes
and purring until I feel better
and it's probably best for my
mental health
to get at least one more cat so that
my other two aren't bored hanging
out with each other
I mean,
three's a crowd, right?
and the only thing missing
from this fever dream
is a crowd of kittens
all loving and pure.

Strangely enough
I didn't dread today like
all those years before
but that's probably because
today finally has meaning other
than possession and control
than bowing down and worshipping

I mean,
we bought the guy a truck one year
and he complained about how he didn't
like the color of green

but I digress
as father's day finally has some
significance and in the
afterglow of traditional ideals
we went fishing all day
and talked about stuff
as equal men
and a man I only met a couple years back
became my father
and the one who birthed me is
nowhere to be found.

one of the greatest
mysteries of my
life
revolves around
a dozen roses
and a card that read:

"for crying out loud..."

She had eyes
like the Devil's Accountant
always making sure
we were up to some good
and I never thought she'd
find me
while I did some sleeping
in the grass
of an empty lot
in the old neighborhood
and of course the
divine punishment was rich
with irony
and pure and good
as is the case when one
inflicts the best
sort of pain

the kind of pain that
teaches a lesson

"it's probably for the best"
the old woman had whispered
to her
after
she miscarried what could
have been my older sister or brother
and the list of unnamed secrets
grew

We stood in line for twenty minutes behind a family whose baby wouldn’t stop staring at me. Naturally, I waved at the baby and the father sneered at me and moved so that the baby faced the other way. It was probably for the best because I have no idea how to entertain children past making faces and looking like a fool and seeing as I was surrounded by people on all sides, that wouldn’t end well. When we finally paid admission, they stamped the word SMILE on the back of each of our right hands in ink that looked suspiciously like blood. But my brother was ready to get on some rides and so we entered Joyland, a dinky amusement park hidden within the largest actual park in town. Everything was funnel cake and screaming children and entirely different songs being played from each ride giving the air this glossy, almost flexing texture. Joyland has apparently been around since forever and maintenance was likely last done shortly after the park was built. On one of the rides, a security bar popped off and the machine started making a horrible thudding sound when our cart was parallel to the ground but the ride operator was too busy shamelessly checking out the *** of his coworker to notice and I pondered, before what I assumed would be my dramatic and terrible death, how often this had happened before over the years and how silly it would be to die over some pastel colored short-shorts. But that’s how these things happen. “No more noble deaths” we had all agreed on at some point and we put down our swords and took up shovels for the earth and everything was good until someone looked at us wrong and there we were again staring at short-shorts and letting an ancient ride disintegrate with people on it because seeing and hearing two different things at the same time is not something that gets covered during the training days at Joyland.

I once knew a woman
who said she had a dream about
water and that it had helped
her predict 9/11
and I still don't know
how to make heads or tails
of that
other than it's just something
that is.

You asked me the other day
the level to which I would be affected
if you were to die suddenly
and I keep thinking about that
and I keep imagining you gone
and a piece of me dies every day
imagining the loss of you
even though you're just a phone call
away and we just talked about
beans this morning
and everything is fine and beautiful
and our hearts ache peacefully
across the country from one another

My father
my hero
has crumbled to dust
and I really just
don't feel like vacuuming
tonight

how inconvenient, indeed

There's something
I love about amusement parks
in that you can lose yourself
for a minute in all the noise and haze
and you forget that
the Neon Mystics are nothing more
than 15 year-olds
forced into their first job at
the local theme park by their parents
because they need to learn that
the real world isn't all fun and games
and perhaps this profound wisdom
is wasted on the youth
who don't yet realize that there
are worse fates than
a summer job
at the theme park

I have this terrible
habit
of meeting the best
sorts of people
right before I
have to go somewhere else
to begin anew

I took a walk through
an old park that used to
be important to me
and the air still smelled
slightly fruity and rich with
wildlife
and I found that one
Very Special Tree
in which I had carved the initials
of myself and a girl I had loved at the time
and as the tree has grown
the letters have become blurred
with scar tissue
and are now unreadable
which is probably for the best
all things considered

I used to live
(and I can say that now)
in a town that I hated
where the police were
perpetually parked in church
parking lots
ready to mete out divine Justice
to those who drive a little too quickly
and the people smoking outside the bars
go silent and glare as you walk by
giving the impression that
you were the topic of conversation
and even though you know it's not the case
you still watch your back
lest you be dragged through
the mud of the community Facebook pages
because this is God's country
and you can be exorcised
for cheap

Its quiet on the lake
at almost one
in the morning
where the sway of the trees
in front of the stationary lights of
the island themed bar
across the way
gives the impression of endless dancing
despite the bar nearing
closing time
and the guests yell a little less loudly
out of respect for the night sky
where I find myself staring at the stars
instead of the bobbers in the water
because
even though fishing is great,
there's always
something better to catch
out there in the cosmos

We have all this
technology in the world
and yet we still haven't found
a way to dampen the pain
of putting my best half
on a plane
bound for the other side
of the country

I thought about you
again today as I drove
past that one street sign
that says
"Victoria Road"
and I've always wanted to
steal
that for you
and I don't know why
and today I nearly did
but that's probably because I had
a little too much of this nice Merlot
(with lots of oak notes, or so the label tells me)
while celebrating a grandparent's 80th birthday
and I just thought I'd let you know you crossed
my mind today
before I go try and sleep off the wine buzz
before work this evening

All I remember is that we were at the farmer’s market. You see, the easiest way to figure out a time period is to note which vegetables were in season at the time, but unfortunately, I was too busy looking at my love to take note of the produce lined up neatly in rows on the stands; though there was a sample of pickled asparagus that threatened to change my life for the better. The love of my life was blessed with an extra bone in her foot and the tendons, of course, immediately wrapped around this extra bone and caused a great deal of pain for her, and as such she had to wear a BOOT. I walked, and she clomped along the street through the farmers market and because her physical detriment was noticeable in the air, we were surrounded by a group within minutes. “Can I pray over your foot please?” their leader had said. Although, I heard it spelled PREY, given my general distrust of people who go to farmer’s markets to spread religion. Before I realized what was happening, the followers of this woman had formed a circle around my fiancé and blocked me out as the woman gave a full performance invoking Jesus to heal the extra bones in this world and there was clapping and there was staring from other farmer’s market patrons who couldn’t be bothered to swoop in and save us. It’s years later and the extra bone is still in her foot.

I’m tucked away nicely in the JC section of the library. Apparently, they use the Library of Congress method of categorizing and organizing the library literature here instead of the Dewey Decimal system. I suppose it’s one way to set this community college campus apart from the uneducated townsfolk who still want numbers to tell them where to find their books. Looking at the shelves nearby, I see a great deal of books about dictators and rights and privacy, so I guess this section of the library is all politically charged. Which would explain this headache and general feeling of frustration, but that also could just be from the procrastinating I can’t stop doing. Strangely enough, I have been blocked into this row by a librarian who has her cart of endless knowledge parked in the middle of the political aisle of books. I don’t know where she ran off to, but I’m starting to get antsy. I mean, what if there’s a fire? All these books aren’t exactly flame retardant and the last time I had to jump through a wall of fire it wasn’t the best experience. I imagine these stacks of knowledge burning and I wonder how much it would be missed. There’s a book here titled “Management in the Public Service: The Quest for Effective Performance” and I can’t even tell you what the first page says because the second my eyes landed on the words, I fell asleep. But hey, the librarian is back and she moving her cart of ideas out of the way so that I may procrastinate in peace.

"Kiss me, Judas,
for I do not wish
to be alone"

the Dramamine
won't stop the vertigo
when one is floating
to this heaven
where someone must've
left the thermostat up
because it's a touch
warmer than usual
around these parts

Prince charming
is a wastrel
living off of
bummed cigarettes
and on
borrowed couches,
forever unwanted,
terminally free
and he's searching
for his Princess
hidden under the beds
and needles
but how does one fight
a dragon when the
dragon is trapped inside your
ribs
and so
and so
and so our prince's sword
and our prince's heart meet
in an embrace that puts the
love
he has for the princess
to shame.

A cheerleader
once wrote me a
love song
and it had lots of
horse imagery
and it turned out
that she had lifted
the song from some kids
tv show
but none of that mattered
because she wasn't a cheerleader
quite yet
and I wasn't educated enough
to scoff at plagiarism
when someone was trying
to show that they cared

I saw some
sand hill cranes
on the soccer field
on my way into campus
today and the male
with all the fire on his head
was dancing in a circle
to get the attention
of the female who
was too busy rooting
in the grass to be
concerned
and the poor guy
looked like such a
fool
all long legged
and beautiful
that we all mistook
him for a lonely
college freshman
except lovesick college freshmen
don't get to fly off at the end of
the day

but sand hill cranes
don't get to fall in love
either
as far as we know
so maybe today it's still
one notch better to be
human and
lonely

I had a great aunt
named Karen
"had" being the
operating term here
and she exists in our
family as a cautionary
tale
because she tried
to pray away
her cancer instead of
seeking treatment
and she died
eventually
and some called it
an act of mercy
and some called it
a **** shame
but either way
at the end of the day
the cancer
stopped.