to understand our future
through dreaming the sea
free enough to sleep our
drowned days without ever
breathing the miracle of water
(originally published in Rabid Oak, Spring 2018)
Short
Tallboy
I exhale
into chasm
of beer can
aluminum
lung
bottomless
as I am
(originally published in EgoPHobia, Winter 2018)
Dream with Hurricane
Florida’s coast the horizon gunmetal
and the gales drive me into a house
where I ramble in garbled non sequiturs
about God highways marijuana to a cop
whose intent is to arrest me but he says
he does not have the authority yet
I say you’ll get there then after
the wreckage the cop works as a clerk
in the city’s only shelter I ask
if there’s room and he says not yet
(originally published in Hollow Tongue, Spring 2018)
22 Degrees
walk winter
nights
and float she
may one day love
you ice
& gilded wing
a starling’s
distant song
for snow
she knows
means slipping
(originally published in Whistling Shade, Autumn 2018)
Give Me Another Few Years
the cat plays with dangled string no I do
thin road-painted lines
I’m reaching a destination I swear
in the low valley of desire
sticky-sweet saliva
mouth open
give me every loose thread you have
(originally published in Every Pigeon, Summer 2018)
Stranded
another night of insomnia
the crickets never sleep
endlessly yapping on &
on about the planes & trains
& flightless birds who wander
fields endlessly & there
is an island where
that’s all that happens
it’s 5 A.M.
& this bed is an island
(originally published in The Sunlight Press, 2018)
Endless Search for Art
You can watch movies
for nine hours straight
and not see anything as poetic
as the walnut tree in your yard
decapitated by storm winds
I’m saying that’s the problem
(originally published in Penumbra Art and Literary Journal, Spring 2018)
Rain Dance
sometimes who you love
is anticipation thus you wave
at forecasts flail at clouds
hands defying gravity you
drop-down dance someone
into your heart
(originally published in Botticelli Magazine, Spring 2018)
Long California Showers
When I was homeless, I snuck into gyms.
Browned shower floors with footprints.
A rose inside curtains’ slow steam,
I became an endless bloom,
tongue lapping the head.
(originally published in Pidgeonholes, Spring 2018)
Rain Again
& you weep on the phone
asking what’s wrong
typically nothing
nothing I say
water patters
to puddle
the white noise
needed for sleep
(originally published in Rosette Malificarum, Winter 2018)
