A Shadow, a Snake

It’s not every day you see a bald eagle at Serene Lakes, but I’ve seen a few before. Flying, perched in trees, their white feathers showing or skimming the lake to grab some trout, then speed off.

Love Poem for the Neoliberal Age

I don’t want to be radicalized by terror.
I want to feed mourning doves
from the palm of my hand in spite of it.

Mud and Lotus

Reading passages in the back seat
in a parking lot
after dark.

objective truths??? objective truths.

like any fable your story
begins with a cup of soup
signifying goodness. positivity. as in:
the audience is prepared
for an unhappy ending.

Accidental Summoning, Paris Metro

before I was told the unspoken rule
about not looking people in the eyes,
you were there on the bench at Oberkampf

Self-Care Saturday

My knowing-better loops elbows
with fuck-it-I-don’t-care
& we choose a linen dress
that shows the silhouette of our ass

(Bad) Daily Horoscopes

Aquarius: Do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ?

Of Rules (and Rulers)

my friend
believed rules
were meant to be broken

Help Wanted

Can you help me find somebody to help me?
Somebody to love? Somebody to fix
a sink who won’t overcharge me? Enlarge
me? Make love to me as if waxing a car?

Fourth-Grade Book Report: The Five Useless Love Languages

“Quality time” means being pressured into spending your day with someone when you would rather do more important stuff alone. A good example of this is cruise ship commercials.

Re: Canaries
for Yasunari Kawabata

Dear sir, 

I have to confess that there are still things I do not know.

Two Poems

"Diorama of A Life I Never Lived"
"How I Got Rid of My Mississippi Accent"

Spirits and Divine Forces

I’ve got the God-eye and shit,
he said in his ashwagandha t-shirt.

Self-Learning to Care

Server Offering Lenity and Constant Empathy (S.O.L.A.C.E.)

            The One You’ll Need in Your Time of Need

            Stay Connected —Fully Integrated across All Platforms

The Fig Tree

We have figs this year
leading up to the weeks of your passing.

All my life, I knew trees that were barren,
ever since you planted them.

Three Poems

“I Am Composing a Song”
”Incompatible”
”That Ancient Village”

Clearing out My Mother’s Home

The bowl perfectly new
in a cupboard full of things unused,
bought in anticipation
of a grandchild never delivered

Art

that’s one of the things it does
makes you think one thing

that leads to another thing
and soon the meadow is full

God Seems Smaller than the Sun

The first time I saw the moon was in my father’s fingernails, the soft crescent hills of calico calcium reflecting the moon I later threw rocks at. I found my guilt in his fingertips.

Screamer

Rubbing his mitts and clearing his throat, he warmed up with a few mi-mi-mis, the Caruso of Camp Bowie Boulevard. Finally, a truck rumbled past; he let out a scream. Not a soul heard him.