Archive for ‘langauge’

January 13, 2018

Fact: in Minnesota, the bus is always late in the cold, and later the colder it is…

i was telling the ladies at daycare
about how the bus
always comes 20 minutes late
when it is cold out.
like now, it comes half-an-hour later, guaranteed;
when it perfect out the bus comes on time…
the colder it is out
the later the bus arrives.
and this isn’t a joke this is real, scientific method real, tested.
this is an actual fact.
they asked so i told them, i love our talks.
he made it, great, goodbye.
but the truth is
one would figure these waits would get better
now that the Superbowl is coming to town.
but i guess not. not for the peasants.
us in servitude, making it to work and back
not having the magic platinum tickets, not insiders.
have to wait on ice packed glaciers between snow drifts.
global cooling is giving me frostbite and making me bitter.
across from the Goodwill at Fairview, near
some abandoned shopping cart excursion,
son in stroller, meth-addict twitching, calling
the Google schedule bullshit, smoking a cig.
don’t these things come every 20 minutes or so…,
give me a break–i mean seriously,
i don’t need this in my life,
no not when it’s negative 20.
then it floats up when you are moments from death, asking god.
this is, even while being secular and skeptical.
i think of summitting Everest and wait longer.
you know i probably could with this training.
though the oxygen tanks and Sherpa, i need them now.

September 17, 2016

Life of Bella, the Dog’s Perspective

outside sidewalk.

other dogs OUT THERE!

the maple trees.


what can i
in my mouth
and chew? ….

i smell something:
a sock.

maybe i’ll eat it
and shit it
out in the
backyard later…

get yelled at.


no. i’ll eat
this peanut butter

toast right here
on the table.

play with my toy.

January 25, 2016

tragic animals (true art)

the imperfections
make the
human being,

by nature we
are flawed;

so, love me
for all
my stupidity
and challenges,

as we are
animals of
a similar kind.


the 35W bridge
fell on a
swift August day
rush hour traffic,

in its
modern marvel,
in a humid haze.

the stone arch
bridge stands
square beige still,

just so, guiding
past and present
to the
city center scene.

December 27, 2015


I find myself
in motion–

in driving;
as a vehicle,
a vessel.

not waiting.
Just go.

December 26, 2015

Fat and Bloated

Now is when I feel fat & bloated. I want
to juice cleanse and run and move and not sit
and not eat. Mario Kart seems an appropriate
lecture; people yell and scream at a tv screen.

I witness this while others are starving,
while watching A Christmas Story. Sometimes
I want to shoot my eye out. The flow of this
media is like red velvet-lined handcuffs.

Some die with their hands up on a couch.
The world is cruel. Loved ones are spoken of
at the bar. They died a few warm years back.
Peppermint drinks come in coffee mugs and

in-laws come with drunken cheer, my pants
come taut and Facebook blows up with new
engagements. I wonder if they really know.
Some give support and get it. Others don’t.

Respect comes in consumerism and what
you can bring them, and I still worry about
my weight. My youngest sister tells me I
am skinny. Jesus is on the computer screen.

The bar life in downtown is docile, a perfect
place to feel heavy and finish a $7 pitcher
of Spotted Cow; I feel better already. Growing
farther apart, and bigger, and older, and more

prone to upset all those around me. At least
I feel fat and good being myself. And some
start, and others pick winless battles. Now,
what a great time to feel fat and bloated.

December 22, 2015

how to solve all your problems

issue of the day,
and then i am better.
it’s like a light
came on in
utter twilight dark.
we couldn’t ask for more.
we couldn’t ask for less.
we couldn’t ask of ourselves.
calling signs of the time
in sighs and glaring
red eyes, we stayed
up all night to
make it to work
by nine, and tried to forget.
others complained, they had
nothing, just their words with meaning.
just their issues emboldened
of the day on social
media, so displayed.
surely we all know, and
surely we can all relate,
because we are here too
just as you, and
no different–
though you try to say,
while hoping for change
on a scrolling page.

December 10, 2015

what i found in my food

Here was auburn hair that crawled like
Butter on a resting worn spatula –
From eggs – from earlier,
Running down its seemingly sublet slant

(Along the sink,
At countertop’s edge),

As the sweatshirt on her back
—at dusk, sun crimson red,
With an alabaster background
Lit up like a table lamp.

The silhouette across
The room too;
It moves
With you and the view.

Human matter and digesting food,
Set forth to
Consume, and assume.

What’s the difference? Though…
Part until moved.
Part in truth.
Stomach full,
Now whole—lest these fibers are removed.

December 4, 2015

we love

we love between
the facial hair stabbings
and stolen cane plants.

we love between
the outside world separatists
yelling “unity”

and the inside agitator’s ignorance.
we love between
a wide geography traveled distance

and unremarkable ones we are shut in.
we love between
dry hands and stained duvets,

purity years ago, and the
light of a Christian morning
staring back at you from a pulpit.

we love like that,
no between, unequivocally–alive:
kiss, trust, and a made breakfast.

we love.

November 20, 2015

Sight Seen

Certain spectacles are just too beautiful to capture;
You’d have to of been there to see how free they were.

October 7, 2015

member drives that murder my ears

a week in, my radio becomes desperate,
it needs money–needs, it needs me to
do my part. i usually just listen and
i don’t need to do anything. i sit on
the floor for stretches, smelling the bacon,
as the toast goes in. a two car crash doesn’t
look good, a bicyclist was involved,
near Ham Lake, it sounded tragic.
now they want to give me something.
i want to win, the odds go up, the moment
is exciting, this is important, become
a member! yesterday, in class, the call
came in, i was busy. i knew what it
was all about. again, hang out on twitter,
yesterday is gone, this prize is yours, now,
just donate. don’t they get money from
the government as a public entity?
they don’t discuss this. member drives
always kill me because i write language
for free, i don’t ask for money, it’s a public
service too, it’s beautiful. this channel makes
me want to start my own member drive,
makes me want to change the station.