Blame the Bricks
Running along the new brick road. The grout is still young and lovely. My shoes grinding dirt into the grout.
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Daring to Dance
Old and young came together, embracing in their triumph, entangled in the throng’s euphoria.
First Home
Guilt-ridden Joshua wanted his father to understand. “I want to be a physicist. Politics are of no interest to me”.
these are not poems
I look back over these “poem a day” entries, I see my life reflected in four to sixteen-line purges.
On Saturday
I briefly had a crush on the doctor who administered my vaccine. It was the elixir of biceps and hope.
The Knowing
I was every fig on every fig tree. Those reckless writers warned the man and the woman not to eat me
Never Forget
Never forget the terrible speed of birds skirting on top of green water. The earth’s rotation unseen through sunglasses.
Grey’s Humanity
The world shut down, and theatres went dark. We left everything ready for the next rehearsal, the set meticulously dressed.
Ode to Tiresome Machismo
Pink sweaters sometimes bring strange weather here. Normativity is a macho badge, I am a growing symbol of myself.