I was writing a poem
about falling into space
–where the weights of worlds
pull you in
so many different directions
you can no longer feel a thing–
where gravity,
once intimately known,
now feels like a distant dream.


Best Wishes

I was being honest
When I told you
I don’t believe in entitlement,
So I simply shrug 
when I notice
Your lack of attention.

I meant what I said
When I told you
I don’t believe in chance,
So I easily accept
Your stoic indifference
Is not random.

I was sincere
When I told you
I don’t demand from others,
So I understand
And fully support
Your freedom to reject me.

And I am as decent
As I expect others to be,
So I let you go
With a smile and a nod,
Offering you nothing but
My best wishes.


She serenades your Venus;
Now a hemorrhaging tear in your canvas.

She lingers there among sastrugi,
Offering safety from your chaos.

Count sheep while she plays.
Rest your head on her lullabies.

Let her fingers knead
At your dysmenorrhea

Until you are sound asleep.

Doing All Right

Sitting here by myself
      listening to the rattling fan,
 Painting imitation Pollocks 
      across the inside of the toilet,
 Watching fallen pubes and other hairs
      entangle dust bunnies
      congregated behind the door,
 I smile and think of you.
 I am glad you do not rush
      to clean up my messes,
      nor nag me to do it myself.
 Our standards seem aligned
      as demonstrated by the mess
      surrounding my diarrhea-splattered,
      mildewed canvas of porcelain. 
 Our ways aren't ideal
      and most couldn't handle us,
      but we seem to do all right
 in our flawed perfection.

The Ride

This relationship ebbs and flows
An emotional roller coaster
Peaks and valleys
Rises and falls
Passions and indifferences
Loyalties and betrayals
Victories and disappointments

If you are up for the ride
Then buckle up
And please keep your hands and feet
Inside the vehicle until the ride comes
To a full and complete stop

If you are going to be my friend
You have to matter
You have to want me

To behave differently
Because you are in my life
You have to influence
And want influence

To affect
The course of history
The path we walk
And how we walk it

You will be
Influenced by me

If you want to stay
In friendship with me

You will.

Fantasy Café

I’m honored
I got to teach you
how to dream–
how to ask the universe
and demand an answer,
even if the answer is “No!”

I’m blessed
I get to watch you
bake your future
in imagination’s kitchen
and flavor your world
in sweet delicacies.

I’m overjoyed
I get to sit with you
at this pie counter
in your fantasy café
and taste your dreams
one slice at a time.