Varying by situation and person
plus corners, directionals
children and trying to explain
life is not simply ethics
or a college course gone awry
people’s lives hinge on listening
we take corners, we take to our sheets
we hide when too much is demanded all at once
confluence has its way with us
follow sugar on your tongue when you taste it
take the cues of sour stand back and revel
May the etymology of thanks
repay you forward
granting every sensation you give
yours to small spoon
like secret bites of ice cream
fed to you
for the fortunate who fall
beneath your shade
may they backboard you
gentle and firm
follow-through
Thank you
as a noun as a tangible
as a please know
a bene placito
you deserve the world
We are on a boat
The Odyssey inundating
in comic form
everyone understanding
ship overflowing
faces full of names
I cannot remember
everything
Where are we going?
The helm is floating
above the ship
the sea is plastic
pretend blue
serene and false
strangely static
warning signs proclaim
the undertow too strong
keep treading water
don’t get whisked away
On Saturday morning light comes
patiently satirizing
weekday frenzy
If I didn’t know
what day it was
would Monday feel less
bombarding?
If I could hug Sunday, I would
tell it how much it matters
its cocooned sloth-like
gentleness the way it frames
what I want to appreciate
Sometime in between
days’ connectedness reigns
unending string
of things to be completed
turned in
When little matters
beyond purpose
let the frenzy go
The quiet morning starts again
its darkness claiming even noise
in New York people sleep temporarily
The weekend like closed tubes of paint
suffocates in bottles while stained dishes pile high
dislocated speaker sounds strewn about
A runner mid-stride frantic for ground
energized over-hurdle high
repeatedly we decide to refurbish
half steps strewn about
The day cannot have its way with us
we are here
amidst the elements
I.
Last night I dreamt
I failed a spelling test
10 out of 19
me small enough
to be held to need
to be seen again
to be allowed to be lost
in my thoughts to dream
as if again I were only
II.
It is not easy
to fall gently back to sleep
when one’s awakened
III.
Your generosity
makes me blush
I am not much
for such compliments
On your nametag you draw a picture of a piranha.
it is bigger than your name
Important clues emerge about you
your hopes, your lack of who you are
your precious fear of future, to goofing.
When you see yourself in the mirror
who emerges but an empty backdrop
of confusion. Passion ignitable
not yet seen through. Who will hold you
up to the onslaught of reality
not terrify you and say see
this is what you must prepare for
uniquely. Without squirm or worry
you might resist the possibility
of seeing the mountain as challenge
and encourage the beauty of the un-caged
the non-fishiness or horizons becoming
visible vantage points of dreams in the skyline
unafraid to focus periodically
make it stay, perceiving capability.
Remember the ocean is big
but more exciting than the fish tank
however safe and comfortable the couch.
Ladies and gentlemen
due to train traffic up ahead
we have failed to see beyond our noses
and made utopias for certain children to grow up in
due to our fear of interacting with others.
Eighty percent of our classrooms are tracked
without so much as a shift of the headphones
the subway loudspeaker begs clarification
craves a “What did you say?”
“What did you say,” went away
with years added one on top of the other
toxic additions, led paint
since the middle ages mounted
people kept in their place
What possibility of change exists
with the moneyed minority so small
who require no interaction
or practice being with others
enclaves of no need for hope
destroy us all
For this to be fixed
my children have to go to school with yours
your children might fail
might even be shipped off to war
in fact all of that would have to become normal
In a dream
we have football fields
trails, a ski course, a lodge
the obstacle course never ends
we conquer the unconquerable
gently over and over again
the pace just right
never tired
except at night
when we walk
and notice
the fallen leaves
wet against the concrete
precursors to another dream
we wish not to escape
as reality remains
a place for prompting dreams
of what will become
of us and our hopes.
People are beautiful
all day everyday subwayed
destination centric
canvas reality unaware
today is for
today is
today
smile gently
at those crossing your path
let them enter
they haven’t said
yet what they have to say
do not be afraid
a narrative will take
shape shapes