It is always evident
that harbored resentment,
like the sharp bite of a cavity
it comes and goes depending,
and like a hole in the tooth
digging deeper, it spreads
into the root like a cancer,
with no more reason than
that shit happens, and happens
and will continue to bloom
like the wakening of Spring
or an Autumn river bed
so isn’t it evident, when
it is time to let that harbored resentment
set sail back into the open vacant sea.
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be here now
I look at his wrist
it reads:
be. here. now.
and for a second dwell,
what a way to be.
Laughing loudly over stranger conversation, we shoot whiskey then wash them down with pickle juice.
Later I gaze at my face in the mirror
it reads:
be. here. now.
but I do not dwell.
Finally, I am here.
resting bitch face
the older I get —
the more smiles I see
the more frowns I disregard —
the more I grow
to appreciate
resting bitch face
and the people
I’ve known who’ve sported
it not being their choice
but simply their face —
and all the times I never should have said a thing.
Advice
When someone
somewhere
or something
is making you
tired and mean
sluggish or obscene
pale, green, or just
downright dead inside
it’s more than a sign
to seek,
alternative grass
that is in fact
greener
in times like these.
Daylight Savings Time
I wake up
to find
that time
has taken
yet another hour
and flushed it down
the toilet bowl
of my soiled mind.
They call it
Daylight Savings Time.
But I wonder
if I
could take back
that erased hour
and place it in my pocket,
with all the other shit
I’ve saved — little secrets
I’m unwilling to admit.
Could they work together
to create, a fiction
to explain
your love, my love, our love(s) erased,
replaced in picture frame.
And throw them up, unrecognized
into the evening sky.
Where there is loss, there too is light
like Daylight Savings Time.
blister in the sun
My eyes burn from
staring at screens all day.
What I would give
to blister in the sun,
with you, once more
14,000 feet high
above where passenger are allowed to turn back on their devices
above where planes fly.
We were swallowed by the sun
14,000 feet high, no reason
to be anything more than together,
maybe you can help me finish this one
with heads in the cloud, maybe it’s time.
this peace I have written
I can’t wait
to edit
this peace
I have written
with faith
that I’ll right
you somewhere
in between,
where my poetry
and prose
never quite could
be as honest
as our fiction,
as honest
as our dreams.
Yourself and the universe.
The futility
of any situation
is more likely
your subconscious
projection
of another’s inability
to see what you see
and your own, very human
infatuation
with yourself
and the universe.
Waste your time
Note to self.
find what you love to do
then waste your time
doing it
That is all.
Sun and Moon
The sun will be up soon.
And I with it.
Tired, I will get through the day.
One step closer to you.
I wonder if the Sun
is ever jealous of the Moon?
Words Of An Average White Male 