Archive for ‘minimalism’

January 26, 2018

waiting for the green line train at west bank station in the snow and cold and heat around 4:36 p.m.

the smell of a late afternoon lunch
enough, enough for snow to melt
imagining debt without a time clock
or vise versa–in some time only fixated…
dusting between keys on a keyboard, jet black
creating something like this, and that, unnoticed unawares
moby-dick for meaning of meaningful meaning
they tell me i have books to pick up
some stand on the shelves like straight soldiers
some crack like and egg in my hand at breakfast
they tell me have a good weekend & we just got over the flu
google will better my photo of West Bank, only soon
words won’t come so easy after that tune
some things just look better in digital format
i will wait for the train, again, here
amongst people who wait for the train, again, here
praising not having to wait for her, once were
wondering what’s in that guys hand, that guys bag
no one puts things on the floor anymore
picking up my little man
waiting for another to arrive–O’ plans: we had
and he asked me what i was eating as if it were bad
i told him what and who made it, of course
man my stomach was starting to feel good just then
thought this before the train came.

February 25, 2017


no matter my surroundings
i find myself there.

March 1, 2016

Tuesday, the second child

the second
child of the week,

so ready,
so awaken.

but nothing to do,
and something.

monday is gone.
Tuesday is here.

and we go at
number 2,

another day
in the week
of others,

we pretend it’s
ours when
it’s really not.

Tuesday the
the real deal,
the very second.

alive, here it is.
next day taken away.

January 13, 2016

Naked between clothes…

As you do,
you’ll figure it out.

As you do.

December 27, 2015


I find myself
in motion–

in driving;
as a vehicle,
a vessel.

not waiting.
Just go.

December 17, 2015

the facts of life

the only real
facts of life
are there
are no
facts of life,
we simply
with problematic
which best
route–or priori,
applies to us
at any
given time.
how we
imagine it all
out has nothing
to do with
the outcome
or the
described “facts
of life.”

December 14, 2015

Seeing the End

I’ve seen doors locked for all time,
purpose in moments changed,
and boxes closed indefinitely

with familiar occupants inside.
Yet, still I lift my head in ice pellets
coming down on the campus mall,

and still my view is fixed straight-
forward when allowed, and with
this aside, and taking on alternatives.

I exist in a one bedroom apartment
in Southeast, brushing teeth, put-
ting my eyeballs in to see just this.

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.

November 3, 2015

constant reminder

i supposed
i’d rather listen
to the room’s
pipes bang,
& put the kettle
to the rang,
and have
a clear mind,
than think
about why
i woke up
late last night.
they say the
artist will
starve, but the
cat, and the
bills, and the
debt, and the
truck, and the human
food, and the rent,
all those things
are enough to do
you in. but
i’d rather not
think about that,
those things are
just moments,
and most things
do change.
seems i am
reminded when
the colors fade,
and the bare
nude trees,
and the cold
chill in
foreign winds of
new seasons.

October 30, 2015

Proof of an Afterlife

It’s hard to believe in an afterlife.
You lose a lot of people close to you
and October mornings seem colder.
Things appear more apart,
even shoelaces have to cross lines.
I think at least half of me died,
while the other part doesn’t mind…

Ben Franklin and his buddy had a pact
where whoever died first would
come back and say a code word,
like “rosewood”
or “cheery tree”
or I don’t know. Google it…
And they would just know there
was an afterlife—it never happened…

I think if I die the only proof of afterlife
will come in this form: I will come back
as a ghost at 3 in the morning
and raid all of the leftovers
in my mother’s fridge.
It will be loud and unmistakable, this proof.
And then I will be gone forever,
off to a hard sleep. And the very next day
when asked about it, all concerned,
I will bold face lie. There’s your proof.