Category: Book o’ Verse

  • sugar cube heartbreak

    I had two foods from my childhood tonight and
    the sugar cube was a complete let down.
    All promise, stacked high
    in that
    crystalline stack and then
    collapsed like a wet meringue.
    Blech. A mouth full of undifferentiated
    former-cube fragments, trying to
    escape each other and
    nowhere good
    to go.

  • Dog parts

    Trying to find a place that’s not shaded.
    Damn trees everywhere.
    I just need one spot where
    my skin can make contact with the sun.
    Light is part of the sun, did you know that?
    It’s not an offshoot or something sparkly
    the sun shakes loose like
    water from a dog.
    It’s more like actual dog parts.
    Our share of cosmic dog parts, sprinkled down.
    This planet is covered in dog.
    That’s the truth.
    Some of that dog gets tangled in the trees.
    Some gets tripped up by clouds.
    And what I need right now is
    a clear spot to lie down.
    Soak in
    the living dog.

  • Not a snake

    You say I’m a snake but snakes
    move with purpose, right?
    They lead with their head. Reach
    with their mouth. Draw a
    dry belly line with an impulse dotting
    each turn.
    Have you ever seen a snake tumble? Or trip? Or twist?
    Not a snake.

  • Real bikers

    Saw real bikers tonight.
    Four bikers, they lined up
    side by side across both lanes with
    their leather jackets. Comfortable, warm.
    Cocooned in that roar that they
    made together.

  • Me and my dog

    i dreamt i adopted
    a dog without a body or a head
    and we went fishing.
    afterwards, while I was
    untangling the line,
    a nice lady came up to see how
    my dog and i were doing.
    “his tail isn’t wagging much,” she said.
    “i don’t think he’s ok.”

  • Old poetry books

    revisiting old poetry books
    finding bits that didn’t
    spark for me
    before but
    are some how sparking for me
    now. These words are
    ripening.

  • What is holy?

    Words are? Holy water
    runs through you? Maybe?
    Clouds then? Cameras? And the way they
    stop things? Guitar holes?
    A place where music gathers?
    Words are. Holy water.

  • it’s me

    I saw you watching when I got up
    and I want to reassure you,
    it’s not you, it’s me. It’s not the way
    you were snapping your fingers. Or how
    loudly you were breathing. Sure,
    I don’t like your shirt. But
    there are lots of shirts
    here I don’t like.
    Look at that guy, for example.
    No, this is about me.
    And the choices I’ve made.
    The potatoes I had last night, for example.

  • waiting on line

    waiting on line
    in my mind. everybody
    cutting and they
    don’t even know it and hey
    I was here. getting coffee
    and a scone but
    also waiting.

  • The Lavender Lemonade Is Back

    This poem was originally about the joy of lemonade and coffee shops. Over time it became about other things that go away and comes back — like creativity. But these last few weeks, it’s become about missing lemonade and coffee shops again.

    From The Lavender Lemonade Is Back: Poems and Stories, now available in print/kindle on Amazon.

    The Lavender Lemonade Is Back

    The lavender lemonade is back
    at my local coffee shop.
    I’d given up on her.
    All the lemon factories, moved off-planet.
    “We Thank You For Your Business.”

    Empty cups, traced with
    mint and cane.

    I’ve been lost
    behind the
    lost
    behind the
    dark berry side of this Lavender Moon.
    Here comes the lemonade.