Posts tagged ‘usa’

October 13, 2015

growing old

i would open yawn
but i am too tired,
i would full stretch
but i can’t move,
this cold morning
on this stiff floor
has me wondering
reaching, searching–
an aging body,
stuck in this time,
asking what for?

October 10, 2015


it’s 8:45 in the morning
i lie there, still,
in bed as our
cat claws the sides
of the mattress
to bare insides.
my love walks
nude in oils
and a black
loosely hung robe
between doors
and mirrors.
her understanding
affords daybreak’s
and then we roll in
the painted sheets–
moment’s ecstasy.
and then
the day went.
again alone i lie.

October 1, 2015

contrived conventions

we are stuck in our phones
and stuck in our beds
sipping deep on dark coffee
just somewhere between

portions of the morning
allotted fully at random
tendency of our nature
going full bloom in the room

a kitchen of classics
the radio sounds a play
in one aspect for the present
mostly charted on days

now dry from the shower
then clothes from the drawer
to steaming pot towel hold
into the french press poured

we are humans not being
without contrived conventions;
the preference, shades,
and pronouns obscure

we are humans not being
couldn’t hold occupied hands;
the mirror doesn’t stand
my selfie will last forever

couldn’t walk for milk unchecking
couldn’t live from that notification

September 29, 2015

Autumn Symphony

Shrill scratches, a leaves’ song
on the fade pale of a paved road,

in the early dead of night,
where empty streets hail—

the quiet wind that blows a debris
of dried fronds to clump and to fold,

only noticed as you sliding—go,
following you along the way home.

September 21, 2015

september sleep

hard sleep in my eyes
queues the end credits

waking to an apartment
gathering dusted clutter

days seem growing longer
as light slips slow away

the cold goes to my bones
crawling in, just deeper

September 19, 2015

applefest casualty

Those trees of the backyard
Through a naked window
kicked at my eyes while a truck drove
busy and loud in my skull.

The white beer tent last night,
with its sugary high notes
and crisply set carbonation
caused splintered synapse today.

And those leaves were changing outside,
and Dirty Jobs was on the set
and life was passing by momentarily
as butter rested malleable on a knife’s edge,

and in the dish, on toast, on pancakes;
between a paper, and conversation
about how this generation doesn’t get it
from another which heard the same …

Now, yesterday’s ideology was stale as the open chips,
and contrived but real and there.

My kindergarten teacher was my bartender,
her pupils were standing years apart
and side-by-side amongst the crowd
as a cover band played Queen
and last week’s hit single.

A flea market set up where we played as kids,
and mom had to go to the fest grounds
to help the church in bright light fashion.

Text messages came through
as I pulled the rubber band
off of bold print fragile paper.

The headline spoke of what was outside:
the backyard, again, window earlier today
—I almost threw up—
remember new years day?
and the champagne and its pain?

On the set was tanning leather—
the wet kind, grey and grotesque;

and in that flowery prose
was a half-baked sentence
which balked at this fleeting instance
of happening nature.

He said just take these pills
and don’t mind the stale smoke smell
of that crumpled shirt at your feet,

an hour later my head
became straight,
I dressed for the game,
and for the weather, and for the
cold fall to come.

It was a morning of remembrance
and a splitting headache,
thoughts of sweet beer and bubbles.

We were talking sorts in the dark,
in the night rain,
near tents and lights
and sound.

Many questions now…
There were no awards for 3rd place
in the poker tournament…

We have the hardest time understanding
that we don’t understand.

It exists because you hear it,
or you hear it because it exists.

I remember feeding the horse,
and then eating food with my hands…

As a loading television allowed for novel thought.

September 14, 2015

uptown shine

exactly knowing & accurate
judgement are as frequent
as authenticity in the bar
lights & sidewalks of uptown.

September 10, 2015


days i wake bolt upright
nothing but happy.

it is here in southeast
or la crosse, or la crescent,

or whittier, or uptown
or dublin, or Washington Ave

where no one alive
can take that away.

nothing but happy here,
just to hit that snooze.

September 2, 2015

everyone, all important: and the legislation we don’t write

it takes on cracked radio waves
where a couch to rest on is,
a group of passionate people
to prove an important point…
but then there is nothing;
they would rally and disrupt,
but wouldn’t pull a single pen
to write a dot of legislation;
aimless, and still the group remains,
seething, holding signs: inequality,
exhaustive, as Occupy once was,
not realizing the implication,
of the reality: that is only
wealthy lives matter–to unify!
and one couldn’t pick a main
idea to write a paper on,
and will never hold hands with difference,
yet they could measure a day
walking, yelling, shouting, whatever,
in hopes that those listening
could change the way
that the wild wind blows.

but those ragged ears are powerless too,
they are the wrong demographic of listeners.

August 27, 2015

The Minnesota State Fair



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