Perhaps That’s Been the Story of Life

just as I will miss the full spectrum of sunset shades
when the leaves return to the trees,
which I can see now only so far and bright
laying a creamsicle calm over the city
because the branches bare
because the winter persists
just as I will try,
on summer evenings to find a better view
at a head tilt or upon a stool
until autumn wind clears sight lines once again
the fever runs its course on my body.
and I sweat and swear and struggle
not to check the news over and over
I wonder if the squirrels curse the branches
for getting thick with sap and overcrowding
their hand woven nests with complete disregard
I wonder if they struggle with the same upset
knowing bushy tailed or disheveled
they can’t change a thing



A commissioned piece for K.C.

Almonds and hemp milk swirl between my hands.
A single serving storm reaching a calm before the wakeup kiss
and the smile, and the coy banter such coquettish moments
are made up of. I carry the mug as if another body to be loved,
as if still holding on to the night while you make breakfast
somewhere past noon. Somewhere past callous departures
but not yet walking in hand. Clandestine on whose account
is hard to say but makes no less of the bliss in closeness,
from one heartbeat to another vibrating between skin on skin
and in every sigh yours or mine, in this space I am present,
I enjoy you. Thank you, for welcoming me in.

I In Lieu

Sometimes I clench my jaw at night
grind my teeth
unconscious to the swimmers and poachers, the entitled or deeply mislead
let my body take the fall


Sometimes the frogs don’t sing at night
police sirens wail
bodies hit pavement the way chicken breasts smack cutting boards
season with pepper to taste


Sometimes I wander the streets at night
hug street lamps
they cut down 49 trees outside my office this spring, all healthy
window watch with impuissant unease