short reads
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Adrift
My tired heart bobbing on the waves At night in the dark between sheets Tangled up like roots Finding spots and scars Naming them as we go Stories fill the silences and close the distances between us And now we’re drifting out over deep water Hurt by the ways she’s different Haunted in the ways Continue 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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Joanies Café
No wonder the place went out of business, Never saw anyone that came pay. Even the cats got free room and board, Joanie had a love for any stray, Continue reading
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The Destiny of My Poems
I hide them by mistake, In pages of journals, and in the margins of books, Or I leave them etched into walls or tree trunks, Continue reading
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Crepitus
A poem from my time working as a paramedic- I’m not supposed to know the word crepitus, Let alone the sound, Or the grating feeling of it in my hands. Continue reading
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An Ode to The Dandelion
The dandelion reaching for the sun, Doesn’t know it’s millions of miles away. I like to think it thinks it will touch it someday. 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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Burlap Cubicles
I feel like a potato in a potato sack. Covered in coarse, rough, Burlap. Continue reading
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Mayday Mayday Mayday
Modern-day knight in iridescent Kevlar, riding on a red horse, veiled and obscured. If the fires don’t kill him, then the cancer will. Continue reading
Hole In The Hedgerow 