Tuesday, May 18, 2010


A splash across the back.
The sun shower rains
across your face and hands.

Too quickly everything is soaked
with water and floating dirt;
from a summer day
dense with heat.

Dusty soil weaponized
by the clouds' redemption.

{The prodigal daughter returns}

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Daily Outliers

There are mornings when the sun rises
but I set. I know I'm not ready yet
to forget, or let the day be wasted
on a wretch like me.

There are evenings when I lose
myself in the stars.  The darkness
revealing all your lost charms; I'm
so comfortable I forget to bear
arms against these thieves.

Monday, May 3, 2010


I knew you were coming so I waited all day.

And so did you, holding back, seeking the perfect

moment to appear. But I could smell you in the air;

I could feel you on my skin.

When I heard you from the streets end,

I held my breath so that I wouldn't miss a

single sound.  I listened, quiet as I could,

to hear you smack the warm dry ground;

blurring visibility as you fell.

Watching from the window, smiling smugly,

where I heard shouts and flip flops running.

In less than ten minutes you had gone,

but I knew that you were coming.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

the winner's circle is a full-size bed

Out of nowhere sleep has hit me like
a pile of warm blankets. And there is
no use resisting, I know that I want
it's smothering weight, soft and so heavy.
I perceive everything getting slower:
the whistling vent soothes, the bed frame calls,
"No more work for tonight, come share this space
with us, press your face into these pillows
and wrap these sheets around your body tight."
The pillows purr, "We've missed you darling, come
and rest, we only want to help. You know
we know you need this." Trying to fight back,
I lay my laptop by my side, but
the two won't be reconciled. Sleep prevails.