Monday, July 15, 2013


i find myself indignant
at some certain thing,
a bell struck long ago
that continues to ring

in the middle of the night
or when i'm driving.
it's insidious and toxic
and damn conniving,

because in my pondering
of the particular slight
i get a glimpse of something
caught in the light.

it tries to retreat,
a fish back to sea,
but i recognize its shadow.
it belongs to me.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

the beach

time flies and seasons change,
shit and blood feed starving earth,
spinning storms to rearrange
the path death takes to find rebirth.

the moon pulls and pushes tide,
a hand releasing just to reach
for footprints and the tears we've cried,
so briefly lain upon the beach.


it will seem to happen all of a sudden
but that won't be the case.

i've been stacking bricks and mixing the mud in
since i tied my first shoelace.

it will seem to come like a train out of nowhere,
whistling and blowing steam from its stack.

but wherever it came from, it would still be there
had i not hammered ties and lain down track.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

dream message michael clarke duncan

didn't know the name, just the face. so looked him up.

quick dream, just being told:

he had to wait, too (for his opportunity).