September Pool Rental

Lost that social
muscle, backstroke
that splashes all the

words my mouth
wants to say but
needs weed

for, the weeds
overgrowing
in the far

away wild.
My back
patio’s

unbearable,
its familiarity.
I want

a pool, or
someone new
to dive into

my mind
and stay
a while.

(originally published in where is the river, Winter 2021)

Lunch with an Old Friend

wish I still knew how to talk about games
movies television sports

blue fish waddling onto soil of questions trudges
leaves bodyprints wet move

closer to some common thread we may yet find
yet know a fishing line in the reel of your hand

mouth brain our friendship was incorrigible
as the moon in a poem in a lit mag

super nintendo and the cement unfinished
scent of basements carpeted staircases doritos

always going down down down
affection every thump downward

like the rest of life tumbling
through deserts of thought mist sandstorm

the sun wrangles some truth out of stranded
windows translucent sunlight

shifting across the wooden table
of distance time summers

 

(originally published in Scarlet Leaf Review, Summer 2018)