Poems so far
Giving Up
When the first shoebox tipped over the dumpster’s edge
the plastic pieces clattered together as they fell.
Upstairs in the apartment, your ex sat on the couch
her cigarette butts cluttered every ashtray on the table.
“Are you really throwing those away?”
You met her eyes. Nothing you hadn’t touched in months was staying in this apartment.
In the next box there was almost a full truck.
Cobalt blue, it stood out against the trash bags.
Tiny pots of chrome paint and small brushes
The kind you’d never use to apply makeup, instead
You must have taken such pains with the rearview mirrors.
In the end, I couldn’t take it.
When your ex drove me home, there was a box at my feet.
At least the 1953 Chevy Bel Air
could gather dust under my bed instead.
Curriculum Vitae
He looks like the bluebird for the job.
The resume was very impressive.
He’s eager in his own quiet way,
knows the importance of the work.
At the agency he was whistling.
I thought I knew the tune.
He must have been eaten alive
on the streets.
The servers have crashed:
all that information is going nowhere.
The Valentine’s Day cards are all on backorder.
I forgot how to make chains of paper dolls
and the bus seats are covered in vomit.
The man on the street corner is swearing to himself
while adjusting his tie.
The air rings with the sound of steel meeting steel.
I’m trying a new tactic.
I’ve drawn up all the charts.
Maybe this time can be different.
I’ve color-coded everything.
Hopefully the message can overcome the medium,
it doesn’t need to be featured in galleries.
I know how much you need to hear it.
There’s a crocus blooming in my alley.
this one is found poetry from the letters I've gotten from prisoners.
As is apparent
California gots me seriously locked down right now
my world is different from yours
it is controlled loud dirty my custody level is high
I think if you keep it bottled up
one day it’s going to pop
I am a good person so please don’t think for one second anything other
Maybe oneday you will read my memoir?
I just did feel the need to respond to you
inform you that God is great my dear friend
Do you have skeletons in your closet?
Maybe one day if all the stars align right
they’ll set me free
What do you look for in a man?
I’m not looking for romance
I won’t be so rude as to ask for sexy/nude pics
I was a lonely child anyway.