reading
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What am I Supposed to Be?
You aren’t supposed to be anything. You’re supposed to be an upright ape, Foraging for berries somewhere in the Sahel. Continue reading
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The Word Just
I just hate the word “just” That I just so stubbornly say To just belittle my words Just before I send them away Continue reading
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The Grass is Always Redder
A poem about my commitment issues “I’m a man panning for gold in the river. Sifting through dirt and pebbles And fool’s gold So much fool’s gold.” Continue reading
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Welcome to This Hole in the Hedgerow
Welcome travelers. The purposefully lost, the jaded anarchists, and the bloodied knuckled pacifists. Welcome friends, new and old, the usuals, the newcomers, the frequenters, and the casually late. Welcome to the travelers, the runaways, vagabonds, commuters, and the lost. The strangers, the outsiders, locals, and passerbys. Welcome to the ones life dealt a bad hand,… Continue reading
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Hole In The Hedgerow 