Poem 20150907

the last official day
of commercial summer

so many sales
and a day that feels like
a repeat of sunday

no one considers
that the second day of summer
the day after the solstice
was shorter than the day before
with less daylight

minute by minute
the light shrinks

and now, the evening comes early
and soon
the evening will come earlier

i long for autumn
and for a change in the leaves
and a change in the air

as long as you don’t change
as long as summer shines
resplendent in your smile
every tree on the planet
can change color
and drift like snowflakes
and carpet the yards
and carports

Poem 20150707

it breaks inside you like your bones
and muscles and organs are blown sugar

like that candy you bought
one year when you went to disneyland

–years and years and years ago
when they had paper tickets the color
of crayons–

and that candy was clear like blown glass
always in a swan shape and broke like blown glass

in your mouth
it dissolved

and tasted like nothing so much as
sugar and syrup and summer and not like swan

and that’s how it breaks inside you

Poem 20150531

this is the last day of the month
the month i was born in
in case you wondered why i–

i don’t know if i care about the month
the month is just a collection of weeks
weeks a collection of days

days that are streaming past me faster
faster than i can ever remember
remembering when the summer would stretch

stretch on forever like a cat caught mid
caught mid stretch, i guess
i guess

Poem 20141210

with the hint of warmer weather
after a cool spring
i ate lunch on park bench
you found me there
walking with a mutual friend
who suspiciously had to go
so you sat next to me
we skated along the edge
of summer
our last year
while you educated me on
the various types of flicking
vicious, light, and the rest
i accused you later of
using magic to capture me
but you swore it was just
the flicking

Poem 20141119

one summer
when there was nothing going on
my step-dad
needed help with his business
because things had backed up

he cut lawns
pulled weeds
with a bent back
hands knotted from arthritis
and a wheezing cough that
would kill him
in twenty years
he could hire a day laborer, he said,
(okay, he said Mexican),
but the last guy
had tried to unclog the mower
while the blade spun
and sliced a finger in all that wet
green grass plugging up the chute

don’t do that
he said
just turn the mower off first

so we cut grass
edged lawns
and the sun rose early and hot
and the grass stayed wet and rose high
and i got paid almost nothing
which was fair