poetry writing

cold shower

went for cold shower this
morning, one knob twisted
until i could bear it; so
you seek the lurch in your
throat, the one that cripples
armies bound for moscow.

think of mason jars,
perched under the eaves
& filled with every last
thought you're waiting to
ferment into something useful.

i would've crossed the alps
for you, on elephantback,
were it not for the condition
of my shoes.

& then i wrenched my spirit
out of permafrost & set
in front of the hearth, &
waited, & waited, until it
bloomed again.

still see frostbite along the
petal edges, reminders of cold
showers & cold winters.
lunchtime poems poetry

7.2.18 / cushions

Cushions velcroed to the wooden bleachers.
Close-cropped curly haired man gives no shit,
He wrenches that cushion from its home
Like an ICE officer, plopping himself down as if
He owns the goddamn place.

lunchtime poems poetry

thunderstorm 6.17.18

You watch the rain and wind
Make spotty waves against the concrete.
The sky is resolved to sunder.
Trapped in dark thoughts
Your momentum a broad stalemate
Between self and self.
Above, the gray thunders,
An aching crease in the heavens.
Portents are all your own,
You choose to see what you see in tea leaves,
Just as you make the words
On a Ouija board.

lunchtime poems poetry

pettygrove park 5.22.18

Commisserating over sunburns.
He keeps his socks on;
Thus, a stark contrast
Between his feet and his legs.
She laughs:
“You’re cute but that’s gross.”
On “cute” I know it’s on.
And like a viper he strikes,
I hear the rustle of clothing
Against the wood bench
As he sidles closer.
“Can I ask you something?”
In a voice above a whisper,
Then whispers,
Then the silence
Of a first kiss(es).
I’m reading Ursula Le Guin.
They pull away and continue talking,
And I listen for his interest in that.

lunchtime poems poetry

waterfront 5.16.18

Rest your head
Against my shoulder.
Rushing water was
The first tv static,
This I say a propos
Of nothing.
Kiss me with your pasta breath,
Laugh a little less
Each time we clack
Our teeth together.
When you ask me
What’s wrong
I am a boar
Hunting for truffles.

lunchtime poems poetry

5.11.18 / to scott

Where did you go
And why
And how
Did it get to that point?
When will we see you
Is that it?
Did you fight with yourself
In the darkness?

lunchtime poems poetry

garden bar 5.9.18

“All black everything”
She mouthed to herself
In the mirror this morning.
She eats a single slice
Of salami from
A plastic Ziploc bag.
(Or at least that’s
What it looks like
From my periphery.)
She in short hair
Hunched over her phone,
Laughing at things
But not too loud
To draw attention.
The salad zone
Blasts Bohemian Rhapsody.
It’s quiet, everyone
Drinks the diet version
Of things. I’m thinking
About the carrots
I didn’t eat for lunch.
The clouds roll in.

lunchtime poems poetry

garden bar 4.27.18

You remember
Everything fades.
All memory
Rests on the precipice.
She walks with purpose–
She reads Ghost World–
She eats a salad.
This will be nothing
In 1,000 years.
This will not exist.
Your brain is loose
With information.
She wears Christmas colors.
Your life as long
As an atom’s mass
To a black hole.
She turns the pages–
She ignores everyone.
When we are gone
Instead of monuments
There will be bones
In the dirt.

lunchtime poems poetry

pettygrove park 4.26.18

It’s warm out
So I’m outside again,
A ghost of translucent skin
And awkward-angled sunburns,
Draped in cheap Target cloth.
A single man in cyan
Sits on a sun-drenched hill
Staring into a bright rectangle.
I write about him
In a similar rectangle.
I do my best to not ogle
The women in sundresses
But let’s face it:
The world is blooming now
And there’s much more
To look at.

I, and maybe you,
Pull clods of earth asunder
As we haul ourselves
From the sunken winter,
Shaking our lumbering frames,
Inhaling the soft scent
Of flowers. We smell love,
And feel the warm breeze
Against our cheeks.
We’ve won our annual
Fight against the seasons.
We’ve won once again.

lyrics poetry

033p: howling alone (ingrid)

i don’t give a fuck
everybody dies
some hit by a truck
some shot twixt the eyes
others hang themselves
some while jerking off
some infect the world
with just a simple cough

so you see
worrying about me
is just a waste of time
who can blame a guy
pissed off at the world
for shooting up a school
and taking out these fools
if only i’d been hit
i should’ve been a shield
cause living ain’t for shit
and nothing ever heals