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You might not want to click the hat.

Sam's hat

blocked

sometimes

when my fingers won’t move briskly
I’m in the mood but lacking whisky

the summer night is super sticky
too fast to stop, too slow for quickie

the fan blows soft at the back of my head
something I love — sweet and strong — has fled

and through

Continue reading blocked

talk in the night

in every place that holds a comb
a toothbrush
a roll of tape
or even grapes newly washed

a person takes a stand
hears the sounds of the night

a bird way out there
calls another
over there
way over there
lets me hear

Continue reading talk in the night

inelegant math

fractions blow my mind
like one half of a blow
or two thirds of a mind
make how many hearts?

who knows
who cares

after all
it’s just division
taking a thing
and slicing it into parts
so that each new thing
is a

Continue reading inelegant math

sometimes

sometimes

the only way
to make things work
is just to say
I’ve been a jerk

so crass
swimming in the sewer
a big ass
a serial arguer

then comes a day
of open space
a new play
a little grace

this box

this box
is one that lifts itself
carries itself
knows what’s inside
something living
a form that breathes
and stretches
moves with folds
speaks like loose cardboard
in a breeze
sits by the curb
waits to be crushed
and carried away

days

sometimes when the air is monday
and the water is sunday
but the earth is friday
and the dew is tuesday
I feel like walking
towards wednesday
and napping through thursday

a child's letter

A student gave me a letter.
She said she did not write it,
but she did.

It said others

wrote things
she wrote
but got read

said things
she said
but got heard

hungered for things
she wanted
but got fed

ran the way

Continue reading a child's letter

it's important that we make sense of things

it’s so important that we make sense of things
a toy we pulled from a box at four
a bike we rode at ten
a girl at twenty
a suitcase
because
no matter
what was real
or what we think was real
it’s the

Continue reading it's important that we make sense of things

sometimes pain gets delivered like the morning newspaper

sometimes pain gets delivered
like the morning newspaper

thrown on the driveway
chilled by pre-dawn
drops of night

it waits

morning walkers see it
they don’t care

those who sleep
don’t know it’s there

birds sing
they ignore it

cars pass
they miss it

it just

Continue reading sometimes pain gets delivered like the morning newspaper

if you could hear what I hear

if you could hear what I hear
the breathing and warm yellow
the light and heat and mix of air
the soft sound between the breaths

then I could hear what you hear
the lying close and touch of night
the falling whistle of the log
the

Continue reading if you could hear what I hear