Nov. × ’15

When the moon rises
and it seems to shrink
into the vastness of the sky
Remember everything is relative

What appears vital to its very rise is not
Someone somewhere else cries
about their moon your dust
Emotions envelop us

If the world were a big lever
we could feel sorry for ourselves

Instead it is a vista
and we are wherever we are
hammering a not lever

Hammer hammer hammer
Thank you Remember
thank you for this hammer

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Nov. × ’15

After receiving my compliment
you say “it’s my winning personality”

sarcasm drowning any attempt
at exaltation

Your eyes dodge kindness
like it will be taken
protective shield activated

I have yet to learn
looking away works

That is if you know
I think about you in the morning

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Nov. × ’15

Today the sun should rise later
alarm clocks should stay off
and someone else should be the cairn

The bound up roll of yarn
should unravel and

I should once again
let laughter take over
hold nothing back

Today I should linger
on edges too intense

and glance and glance and glance

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Nov. × ’15

Two pigeons
like New Yorkers
kick up yellow leaves

A mouse saunters
across my kitchen

Some days our roles need to go
We cannot always hold
supposed to stance

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Nov. × ’15

In a cooking class
students make banana pudding

I watch from the sidelines
imagining the soccer mom
I will someday be

The atmosphere of a slumber party settles in
giggling and turn taking

I ask if they like baking
Someone says she loves to bake cake
but that’s only if her mother gets food stamps

Others nod along
I will my facial muscles
to conceal any sort of pity

There is excitement in her voice
There is hope

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Oct. × ’15

Feet have a way of getting tired
it might be neurons

they might know it’s unfair

If I were a foot
I would think it unfair often

Maybe feet are assholes
at the body part conventions
they just complain

Maybe feet don’t feel that way
they know their job is important
suck it up
grin and bear it

As a kid I watched Béla Károlyi
tell gymnasts
“suck it up”
My parents horrified
pre-reality TV

As far as lessons go it’s not bad though
to land on the balance beam

you just have to remember
it’s not everything.

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Oct. × ’15

One day Literal and Figurative meet for coffee
They sit at a table near the stained wall
spattered with coffee though the latte swirls perfect

Scratched tables lead literal to launch into lacquer
all the while figurative listens disinterested
thinking about gentrification and signifiers

They both forget to savor the egg sandwich
the word pontificate swells in the mouth
like parachuting is only for the few

The vista the road-stop the view
How does one gain distance and presence?
Inherently schizophrenic to be and see at once

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Oct. × ’15

A little fissure explodes a puppy at the door
you know me I know you Hello hello hello

I would not say we were friends
We also were not not friends

So it is strange to see you at a party
remembering the time and time and time before

When we were younger and it was scandalous
to even party or have beer in our small hands

The precipice of so many decisions
the modest obstacle of taking a major

the trepidation over what I wore
Was is it good enough? still lingers

We’ve made it from someplace to here
the thirty-something apartment landscape

This is no small miracle this is now
with new modest obstacles we do not yet know to be modest

How are you and how did you make
all of those decisions that left us spinning here?

How is your ex? Are they married
with children? Are you reading my face for regret?

Did you think me better than him anyway?
Or he than me? Are you wondering if I am happy?

I am hoping you are I feel proud you seem to be
I have no right to feel this pride

but you are so one piece solid strong
I want you to be everyone’s story

still smiling the same way
with a beautiful lady on your arm

Thank you world
for delivering us

to this Hello
to these agains and again

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Oct. × ’15

It smells like fried chicken
Carved fossils relieve the walls

A new baby boards the train
Laura Ashley blanketed
Gold purse adorned mom
snapping photos of everything
possibility flashing

A grown man slumps
asleep, alone, lost

So much proximity
So little noticing
So little cross

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Oct. × ’15

On my way to work
a little girl leans
on her father
on a brick wall
by the bus stop

I pass a stranger
who is not a stranger
our commutes cross paths
most days

On his bike he waves
though intersections loom

When days pass
without him I worry
I should have shouted
how are you?

Two girls partake in mediation at school
they fought one brought a knife to school
Both cry about fathers lost

They are sorry
they never knew
what the other
was going through

A new woman appears on our route
She does not yet say hello
but I think about her too

and all the things unsaid
all the new kids at school

What is sturdy?
And for whom?

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