Tuesday, January 8, 2019


Journaling keeps me
humble and human
            when reread
in perspective—
    a snapshot of me
proving that I can’t be
        in the moment
one purely objective.

It's a drip pan for ink
that happens to leak
           from cracks
in an imperfect heart
                  and when
read again
reveal who I was then
as well as how fragile
          we are.

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Lonely Hipsters [Redux]

So many, so lonely
perched in public
earbuds in
dressed to the tens
paperback in right hand
cigarette in the left
silently begging
to be noticed
but not realized
by another human
as sarcastically original
deeply flawed
apparently frugal

and brilliantly refined.

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Big Box Remini-scents

I miss the smell of Wal-Mart
Fresh baked donuts
An earthy produce punch
Garden Center carcinogens 
And an underlying hint of refrigerant.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Backpacking Realism

It's like the sky fell in the water
now it ripples 'round my feet
as they swell, and I think
    and grovel and stink
in a thin crust of salt
and premium DEET
I ogle at more rocks and trees
that line majestic shore
as though I didn't see enough
of this the day before
and barely smile
because even my face
is feeling mighty sore.

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Where I Am

in the warm
       glow of neon
   seeping through 
   chilled by Freon
Shadows rest here
    never dancing
The floor hums
     through darkness
            beneath a clattering
as I
   sit alone
in the silence of
swallowed whole
     by a series
of choices.
 (Written 2.5 years ago during a lonely night at the Skylark Cafe shortly after moving to Seattle, while my wife was still in Upstate NY)