hindsight is
the highlights with
none of the minute details
or emotion

we keep our lives
online, the journal
digital and dated

i like to imagine
my past self a lumberjack,
chipping away at trunks
of overgrown promises

i always want to ask
everyone if they’re okay,
but it’s not like the answer
is ever honest
or even objective

in retrospect,
i wouldn’t have done it
any differently



a holiday

to spike the morning coffee and
drift the tin can car
around the corner

i will take any
to celebrate any-

i will pluck
the moon right
from the predawn sky

morning of december 17, 2015

this is where you get lost
in cotton candy sky,
want to punch the guy
with the radio voice
in the jaw

outside influence
is the worst thing
for the introvert

woman juggles on the corner,
keeps dropping tennis balls
into traffic then
darting out
to retrieve them
for dimes

all i want to know is
her biggest fear,
father’s temperament and
where she got
that hat


december 14, 2015

one of those days where
you’re suddenly not a nihilist,
emerging lively and full of fate
into wintry plains,
daylight a quick breath
tensing with cold

and all that ambition
you’ve been denying for years
spilling out as talents
you’ll soon go back to forgetting