Inevitable Change

surf another wave
of cyclical maturation

I am who I am, you
are who you are–

static trust– your white
noise a velcro

loosening of being
unhinged– I leave cities

faster than lovers, cruise
the interstate in blindfolds

before rumble strip sobers
me beyond the paved path

(originally published in Bindweed Magazine, Summer 2021)

Same as It Ever Was

I am reliving and reliving the remote
control buttons then buttons
in your bed, golden room of silk
and how many times did we drink
like that? Dropping beer after beer
at Zeno’s then groaning summer sleep
right after. What were we dreaming
about? The cat was snoring and
what an endless loop! Blinking
awake and wanting to crush
night back with aluminum eyelids

(originally published in The Drunken Llama, Summer 2021)

Distance Makes the Heart

grow fonder, or so is said,
but I’ve learned it as distance
makes the heart forget us

the equation is miles plus
time equals a greater radius,
as between words dangling

on a phone line, or inflections
slung from mouths through
the atmosphere onto a satellite,

far removed from its origin,
home now absolute zero, cosmos
cold and steel, this floating coffin

a language of longing, your voice
massaging my eardrums through
silence

(originally published in Academy of the Heart and Mind, Fall 2019)

Fireflies Burning Blue

Our world is made
of water, of sadness.

Blue hues in a
supermarket’s faces.

Green bills,
blue hills.

These are wings of sky,
the mechanics of flight:

sidewalks float bugs
that gently illuminate.

There are no more
fireworks, only quiet

landing of legs
onto concrete,

the resting a belief
you do your best,

you try.

 

(originally published in The Sunlight Press, 2020)

Airport Protest (January 29, 2017)

Planes have stopped searching the sky for answers
as the crowd gathers into the terminal, fists up.

For once, we are made of metal– wings to give
the silenced flight. We mobilize on the ground

with footsteps of thunder, voices of titanium.
In rising, we promise to fly, scan the landscape

for green landings. Drop the ladders down,
worry about the pressure– not the altitude.

 

(originally published in Urtica Lit Blog, Summer 2019)

One Example of Privilege – December, 2016

We were about to decorate the Christmas
tree in the living room, blue
lights and tangled cords, when Jeff said
we beat the Dakota Access Pipeline.
We agreed this was reason to celebrate
then swept loose pines off the floor.
Paige hung the usual ornaments: red
orbs, angels. Sara served hot chocolate
with cocoa powder, skim milk, vanilla
extract– warm in the heat of our home,
far from Standing Rock. I thought of Sophie,
who built teepees in the cold to stand with
the Sioux– how they risked frost and flame
to stay alive, and many of them did. But
when Long called to catch up that day
we didn’t talk about it.

 

(originally published in Pomona Valley Review, Summer 2019)