short story
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San Francisco Skyline
Tumble weed blown west,Like a beeswing in the wind.Thinking of the loss of my other lives with each mile,All the what ifs and maybes I left behind me.Mourning my youth with every passing day.This new frightening budding malaise that besieges me.Closing chapters, burning bridges,Dropping the curtain, for better or worse.Watching sunsets turn to black.Now, staring… Continue reading
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Milkweed
A safe home for the Monarch caterpillars Before they grow their orange and black wings And fly thousands of miles away Continue reading
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Different Handwriting
We go for walks when it rains and run when it storms. We still stay up all night by accident, and watch the sunrise together. Continue reading
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Flotsam
Am I just this fleeting speck of flotsam? Continue reading
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Missed Connection
You are the real hopeless romantics, With emphasis on the hopelessness, 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
