Words
‘So, You’re a Poet’
                Don’t read into the title, “So, You’re a Poet,” just see it for what it is. There’s no question mark, no other words. It’s...            
            
        Bring an Original Poem to Class
                Scary things, scary things
The things that have created me
All come back, so haunting
Surrounded now, I can not breathe.
Can someone please
Soon help me
Rid my life...            
            
        Dirty Work
                Eleanor’s childhood was still standing at the corner of Maple and Eighth. It had always been, seemed like it always would be. When she...            
            
        to william
                
Faulkner, you fucker you came on to me with your words and your prose and the things you could seeand i’m beholden, Man and what can i do wondering...            
            
        A Last Cut
                
They were the last tomatoes of the season, harvested from the garden like the precious gems they were. The tomatoes were heirlooms. Their juice...            
            
        Black White and Blue Lives
                
Screams and shouts, full of hate
“To once again make America great” 
“Don’t forget all lives matter” are the cries. 
How can we believe that when every...            
            
        No Language
                
For years I’d see Tim free fall from some height while sitting still in the backwoods of his life after his wife died of alcohol poisoning he cut...            
            
        kindled, a fire no more to burn
                
and i can not be, 
here, not tonight, 
a dying vine, 
these memories 
twisted backward, embers of a life 
retreating back to the earth 
with thoughts, evolved 
to die 
an ego, regressed,...            
            
        Decadence Outside Dior’s
                I walked down the avenue of obscenity,
of unspeakable wealth,
store window displays glazed
with million-dollar baubles
for women waltzing by
in shoes of gold,
bandaged faces newly
contoured by plastic...            
            
        the young, the the we, the all
                
By the virtue that we are children & were more soThat young & exposed we were cunning enough to readThat the society of the...            
            
        the form of a tempest
                
and sometimes it doesn’t rhyme but just seeps out like effluent washing over the cobbled streets of a town you’ve never been to and stumbling, burdened with the mannerisms of my father’s...            
            
         
		