february 22, 2015

exhausted envy
sinking into soft leather,
morals no longer opposing

why do you get to
wear the stars in
your hair?


reasons why walking is good for depression

store exuberance in temporary vessels
as sunlight hits untouched corners,
cobwebs gleaming suddenly
(and involuntarily)

grasp at nostalgic metaphors and
assign all this a purpose because
the only time you really want to quit
is when your nerves forget themselves

compartmentalize for love’s sake,
using words like “pure” and “gleaming”,
using time like a drawing board
in the diluted blue of late afternoon

forget the implied anger of
a frothing creek, usually frozen over
or babbling merrily, along with
the need to personify everything

coax the breeze with every inclination
to secretly believe yourself
ancient and enchanted, rather than
a mechanical sum of moving parts

february 23, 2015

dripping from awnings
of century old buildings,
water droplets sing

i fight shedding frantically
which leads to that taboo
i don’t like to mention

i fight growth subtly
which leads to that taboo
i don’t like to mention

but i have given it form and
you have given it power and
i am just a reflection in a muddy puddle

february 20, 2015

i am saturated with light and sound,
ready to throw the television
off the front porch

i can’t stop thinking about how easy
earthworms have it, but
i guess that’s subjective

uncorked intensity like
expensive champagne
leaves me drunk and petty

february 18, 2015

lemons are out of season
but the bartender
ruins my beer with one

this is a bar for skeletons
and bailey rolls her eyes
at my perceptions of time

peddling the wheels
of a stationary bicycle,
i am nothing if
i feel nothing