Yes, we are still ourselves– a little faded.
The year took a toll we did not realize
until we revisited Columbus, Ohio–
where we used to live. We were surprised
to see how much everyone changed–
Paige was worn, working night shifts at
the bar after leaving the office. Jeff writes
mortgages more than music. They played
breakup songs on the fourth of July before
fireworks blazed the sky aflame, everyone
content around each other, though Melissa
is engaged to a completely different person–
not in the sense of you’ve changed, though
she has, and he has– we are all trying
to circle around the year, immutable in
its ripples. Neil was in a wheelchair.
Mindi is drinking again. So what?
This life, you have to soften the
edges. We were glad to be back,
having flown in circles around
a place we called home only to
finally land on a familiar
branch, intact after the storm
we have been through.

(originally published in Monologging, Summer 2022)

I’d like to think there’s order
to the universe (says every

astrophysicist) so I drink
at Brillobox, then expand

out into the river region,
& into the river itself

with broken bottle
among dead husks of beetles.

I float fast, staring at the cloudless
sky of stars thinking what

a waste right now it’d be
to pray to Jesus with all this

dirty beauty in the air. You’ve
read my diary, you know my secrets,

you see where my thoughts wander
when left unattended (black

crows drowning, strawberry
lips & gin & everyone

you have ever known).
My clothes waft that cigarette

scent, but in the water I launder
myself in the cycle of time

& thus I am a pendulum,
swinging in the dark.


(originally published in LEVITATE, Spring 2022)