maybe it’s time for you to go

dinner isn’t ready. it won’t be. the stove is broken, the heating element snapped. there isn’t a clean dish in this house and we’re out of soap anyway. our food has spoiled. each veggie stalk moldy. fruit turned to mush. the bread ready for a penicillin harvest. there’s blood in the freezer, the meat thawed and weeping. the fridge has thrown in the towel. besides, the cutting board cracked. our knives all dull. the bulb in the kitchen burned out. dining together, it cannot be, the table covered with empty. i can’t see the floor, through the mud and the leaves. the bristles all bent, so sweeping is out anyway. when will you realize it just will not work? there’s nothing i can do to fix this.

On Solitude

It’s true. Single file one will travel,
But only if they choose.

Jade may be and bitterness free,
Eyes bore into the globe in front of you.

Still –

If I’m not mistaken, these aisles run side by side.

Rows upon rows with no singular distinction,
More tapestry warp than train.

Cling hard and fast to each thread,
Feel that there is no end, no beginning.

The bonds of life are not unique,
We all suffer, we all feel pain.

Yes, “Laugh and the world laughs with you,”
Reach out and you’ll get the same.

Busy Being Them


Can there be an explanation for everything?

A basic reason why that is

Our trumpeting truth with which

Knocks away the dusty deniers

Ridiculous liars

And the ugly clowns that come with them?

Can there be just coincidence?

A meeting of minds that contains

The combination of elements creating what is

Our awareness, but not our truth

Our ability to look back, but not within

Our incessant need to explain, but not understand

Our fervor for correction, but not acceptance.

Will there be us?

Just being us?

Or will we be too busy being them?

Monsters Drive By

Sunny day or perhaps with clouds

Rain and maybe wind

Calm travel

Stop at a light

Turn left or

Turn right

When I glimpse it

Terrible Teeth

Mouth stretched wide

Silent screaming

Eyes peeled back

Terror strikes

I shriek


Least suspected

Just so briefly

Mouths still closing

Back to normal

I’m still shaking

Fright still fills me

Hear me now


Begging Please

Cover your mouth

When you Yawn

Intentional Forgetting

It’s easy to forget if you’re busy.

When constant interruption

Keeps you from focusing

On what’s wrong.

It’s easy to get lost

In constant entertainment

Overlooking your world

Just to be gone.

It’s easy to grow complacent

With constant distraction

Erasing your questions

Of what ought to belong.

It’s easy to ignore what you’re neglecting

If you’ve given up

What used to make you strong.

Pay attention!

Your mind is screaming.

Don’t forget!

It begs the night.

We’ve got to fix this!

Your conscience continues dreaming.

I don’t have to tell you

What is right.

Lost To Us

A window

A screen

A light on inside

You sitting at the table

You reading a book

A door

A knocker

A light on inside

You tiptoeing

You crouching

A sliding glass door

A screen

A light on inside

You on the couch

back with your book

A forehead resting on the wall

A sob

A light on inside

You blank

Not answering

Lost for good.