Wednesday, August 20, 2014


One of the truly bizarre wonders if this new digital age is the ability to write blogs while you poop. Now, I'm no Luddite. I love my technology, but I hope that nobody starts a blog for their bowel movements. I refuse to google to see if it already exists. 

I read an interesting article about "scary places" this morning. Deserving of poems probably. Stay tuned, imaginary readers! I will avail you with random words soon. They might even coherent.

Peace, love, and poetry,

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

A poem about things you can't lose.

I am violently silent
around them,
about it,
in the way
a rock wears flat
beneath the caress 
of time and river.

If poetry is cracking
open ribs to lay bare the hidden
I would kindly request reprieve.

Today there are words 
I'm trying to work around my lips
Without so much cracking
"When we were trying"-
And the box of hand me downs
My mother bought for us.