Without you, the sun darkens
Cold settles in
Home becomes hollow
I feel the weight of my heart

Without you, laughter hurts
as the world keeps turning
My breath noticeable
Folding myself into origami

I’ll see you
In full regalia
Arms outstretched or crossed
At my performance here
Without you

We’ll embrace again
My guardian angel
While we’re apart


Tilting Downhill

The best way to stop someone wandering down a path is a post sign

Or a person bearing directions ill-conceived or conceived for ill

And none of this matters in the dark when the stars wipe away like so much glitter

Or you’re standing beside me

Nothing urges the sick traveller toward the forest like a well-worn path.

We Didn’t Know

The measure of me

In my hands

Hollowed to hold the weight of you

Scratches up and down the shirt to beg

A strike snapped from a snake

And all stillness

Then movement

Where the fan whispers into your clothes and sends the secrets tittering out

A flap of your jacket

A slip of hand from giants

And you’re gone

Not a Burden

Intentions turn the wipers on

A shimmering of anxiety

Touches my dancing soul

Chaos found me pretty

Willing to upend a life spent shivering in anxiety

But you thick and barnacled, wise and rusted

Found I needed a chain to shake about

Like a tambourine round the old camper

Found me beautiful in any state

Found me light as a feather

As a spark from the lighter

As the first day you lifted me far above your head asking

Tell me all you see and once you fly higher

Shout it down

I’ll make it out as best I can

Until I learn the language of your tongue

I, America

in the hellfires of freedom
reforge your golden crown
else it all else it all fall down

i, America
off the heroes become weapons
resist the hero’s complaint
turn to the song of the common people
a song of death
a song of misery
sung with grace and enmity
stung with peace and tragedy

i, America
raise the colors of my country
front and center

the heroes have all gone
it’s just us now
it’s just us now
speak up now


from his bathtub
he listens to birdsong
beyond closed windows

muffled bursts of sunrise
scrub away the bruises
long to ease his shoulders
shadows flickering as cars break the light

he hums himself a birthday
a conjuring of youth
murmurs her name
scent of blueberries and forget-me-nots
in the bubbles about his knees
smooths back his hair with water
and sits forward dripping

he whistles a response to the
trickle tickle of birdsong
and waits for her name to replay

The Time

what death trips off your tongue more easily than your own
for no buckling in breath precedes it
no start of recognition of love no. it hollow hopes not in all pallor stirs not the water meant to be stirred
a field without handhold
a glass without reward of Truth
locked within
a beating bird striking again again
the time