salt from the dark sea
pine and cedar
even the minty blue-white moon
like toothpaste caught in the
corner of my mouth
Category: Poems
natural deselection (20200914)
the abandoned white bicycle
beneath the hemlock tree
in the blackberry bramble
a single baby bootie
the forest is eating children
you get what you need (20200617)
you get what you want
if what you want
is a backhand
from the ticking
winding down
clock
the second hand
gives you the finger
–good job, asshole!
only time has mastered
sarcasm
grab a shovel
don’t forget to measure
yourself first
we will all get buried standing up
can’t let change
fall out of our pockets
or our hips dislocate
during rapture
alien abduction
other failures of gravity
give us the greening grass
below our feet
or else
above all your heads
potential (20200409)
hold the flashlight up
under my chin
like a suicidal jedi knight
breathe out
empty those lungs yogi-style
in the light a vapor forms
the amorphous shape
undulates away
disappears as water droplets
spread and the temperature
between them and the adjacent air
becomes insignificant
exhale again
step into
the little cloud of myself
feel nothing
neither the sudden cooling
of nighttime sea spray
nor the volcanic steam
of the just finished running dishwasher
just nothing
and is this
–i wonder aloud to the dog–
what ghosts don’t feel
when they pass through
one another?
the fit of melancholy (20200407)
the poor are still poor
the dying still die
those obsessed with power
wrap themselves in disaster
like moths in cocoons
only to emerge stinking of
blood
self-righteousness
their own vile shit
weaponize everything
the weapons
the disease
the cure
cockroaches
are time travelers
come back to honor
their ancestors
salad (20200403)
mixing cabbage and carrots
folding in mayo and vinegar
even coleslaw has a certain rhythm
if not actual music
tomorrow
i will eat this properly
not just sneaking bites
to “taste” it as it is being made
haiku for a pandemic (20200401)
scribbling on paper
wondering if i should save it
in case i have to wipe
moveable wounds (20200130)
the ground bleeds with each gust of wind
bullet holes appear on the mulch
on the pavers
tempted to leave the festering wounds
since they will fade to pink
and later onion-skin transparent and brittle
in this dry weather
violent eruptions of color
pocket universes
alternate dimensions seeping
oozing into my own
fluff–20200107

headlights illuminate
dandelion heads
lighting them up
small luminous ghosts
each an incandescent
fading wish
you say
–i can’t tell the difference
between human and animal sounds
each passing car
a wall switch
wish on
wish off
coyotes and owls
try to tell us
which is preferable
olfactory event (20191108)
the late night fog
carries the smell of candy
the dog doesn’t notice
or is uninterested
or i imagine it
each of these potential realities
is equally valid
in other universes my little hunter
has a cold
has scented a coyote
i am having an intracranial incident
i cannot avoid what
the night fog offers me
no bitter oil slick of chocolate
no icy bite of mint
no slow burn of cinnamon
just the sick-sweet punch
of fluorescent waxes filled with
sugar syrup and unspecified fruit flavors
a preschool classroom
after snack time
each mouth red-ringed
exhaling diabetic clouds
during nap time
***
the morning fog replaces this
with the odors of wet
pine
juniper
cypress
eucalyptus
and standing beneath one
broad-leafed tree
the sound of rain
local to this spot
instantiated in this moment
dew condenses
dripping leaf to leaf