Mar. × ’19

I am pretty sure
you are dead

I will likely water you anyway
for another few days

My mother said
you have to test

the soil with your hands
No system

I prefer schedules
so I know when I’ve messed up

This would not have saved you
or me for that matter

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Dr. Ysaye Barnwell (of Sweet Honey in the Rock)

Feb. × ’19

This evening we strangers
sat before you
who led us in song

Like raindrops
lulled by higher force
we levitated

Let go
of everything other
than sounds around

If we fully could
perhaps we would
learn to fly

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Feb. × ’19

In the kitchen we waltz around one another
practiced routine of who does what
yet careful still to gently touch

Quiet comforts of
everything will be done
meal complete
tastes enjoyed
dishes washed

Do not ask
Will we dance this way
until we are old?

Just triple step
and let your faces touch

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Feb. × ’19

I appear when you least desire
about to step into a normal day
and you need now suddenly
(umbrella and gloves)

You do not control me
sometimes I slow down traffic
I am not magnanimous
like the sun always there

I am a sometimes surprise
and when you let me
you can hear nothing but
gentle undulations that would be

Forget the plan
hear the patter louder now
Come closer get wet
let go

You appear when I nearly forget
I cannot control everything (yet)
and suddenly I need
umbrella and gloves

Though you are cold and I am controlled
still you reign my sky
from time to time
mixing up what I have known

You dance above me
Is this your allure? Not to concede
to my craving for more? You just drizzle
Would you never be more?

You have no plan
you will not get louder
you have gotten me wet
I was hoping for more

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Feb. × ’19

Some things are meant to be enjoyed
piece by piece
clear slow down
partition here

Always I heed
never have I placed the whole
orange in my mouth
at once felt the juices
rushing around
let the explosion
of tastes abound

Some switch
says regret

I would miss the piece by piece

What else have I missed like this?

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Feb. × ’19

So much always happens
all at once
an ambulance roars past
a child skips down seventh street
sirens blast

These things are unrelated
except for

In each breath
so much
we should see
but for where there is full
there is empty

Everyday could be the beginning
if you let yourself look
at it that way though

We could become
the echo chamber of forthcoming sound
not just sound itself
Remember joy on the face of another
and help it recur

Feel the joy of time lost track
late night walking in the dew
even if there is only cement
no fields to lay in
Even if the timeline is not
as you expected

There is and was tonight
and addition is not the only solution

Instead there is
There is

and when we look back
a line will somehow have formed

In other words
it will have been worth while
because we were present

Here, here
be a blessing

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Jan. × ’19

Do raindrops know
they have landed in a puddle?

Do they ever discover
the ocean and hope?

Off in our own pools
Are we all waiting for a storm?
No trophy for staying put

At the beach I never stay
on the shore only toe in
All the way always
underwater wet
through and through

I want to melt
to have already

How do we stay in spaces
on the way to elsewhere?

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Jan. × ’19

I was so excited for your first bath
recalling primary colored toys
soap suds and traced letters on my back

I did not consider
your startle response
the potential of water
the challenge of surprises
the fear of drowning
Until you started to scream

Should we have eased you in instead
put your tiny hand in the water first?
Or would we have become afraid of your shouts
and shifted to sponging when really water was
only just touching your tiny waist?

We have so little control
except someday perhaps
you will read this
and I would like you to know
we chose to toss you in

Afterwards wrapped you up
in a duck shaped towel
and thought

Well, here’s hoping
she chooses to dive
from the high board

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Jan. × ’19

They stared at you
to tell them how it was

How long did it take
before they wondered

Can you recreate reality?
Surround sound, color, dimensions

Not just what we have now
Are we there yet?

And why in our loneliness
is this what we want?

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Jan. × ’19

Did whomever said it first
immediately regret it?

Were they trying to mitigate perfect and infinity
and fail?

Did they forget to look up
at the majesty of sky
while walking home
lost in the menial details
of the day?

Did they miss temptation
and get a tattoo they regret
of a parabola never meeting its axis?

Did they fall for a spurned lover wanting reason
they both know does not exist?

Did they try and strike it from the record
and find the world full of its addicts?

Did they still

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