Tag: poetry

short walk
long ride
long walk
long shift
long walk
long ride
short walk
and tomorrow i have to do laundry

July 25, 2020

when i hold that
molten light
between my palms
i wonder if that golden
balm was netted in ancestral
fingers to soothe away
the fear of never ending
winter with the primal
warmth of the memory
of dawn.

February 9, 2021

when we don't see eye
to eye that's the quiet
place we need to be to
pare open the soft
underbelly of
lies disguised
as truth and
set free
that
uncomfortable
unrest that
roots like
a sharp
spine
through
entrails of
self delusion
until some pale
meaty bone breaks
through salty
soil and we
are once
again warmed
by the flame of
hungry intellect
sparked by fifty-
five million years
of primate evolution
when at last we see
eye to eye.

February 12, 2021

normal people are so bright
they blind me
and i have to look away
look down
they say
'you are
well liked'
and the words
run like water
between my fingers
as i stumble on
the icy sidewalk
in the dark
on the way to the bus
and repeat my
mantra
be at peace
be at peace

March 2020

3 hands synchronize
wait! wait!
Western Avenue
Crossgates Mall
it's the 905!
the 10 stalls out
and restarts
puff! puff!
of wind-blown leaves
and sweet tobacco backdrop
to a hacking cough
as crows fly
east to west
like black pepper flakes
over green-painted brick
and street lamps wink out
one by one
happy friday! happy friday!
cold enough for you?
having fun yet?
living the dream?
stuffed office
air and two feet between
door to door to door
when i have the moon
overhead and icy breath
in my lungs and 
the sun like a golden
dollop between clouds
and i can't feel my feet
but i can feel the blood
pump! pump!
in my heart
and the pinprick of
Venus stays in my eyes
beneath eight hours of
electric lights
and a cart full of
snacks! snacks!
fools for primates
with color vision
as if toys were
true blue berries
and grapes in
green and red and black
and sweetest spice of
honeycrisp and gala and fuji
on my lips like
sunshine over snow
and why draw the blinds
down on that deepest sky
on trampled grass
on birch trees in winter
on space
on wind-drawn whirls of
exhaust
on acorns rolling underfoot
as night falls
while i fall
asleep
on the bus
in the dark
on the walk
home
in the silent
snow fallen peace
of my living room
city

February 2020