summer rebirth

deconstructing walls
built by cold years,
my hands are no longer brittle,
my blood has begun to warm;

it all now comes so easily

savoring daybreak frost from her last kiss,
discovering constellations in her freckles,
chasing sparrows in her eyes,

this is my home,
i am home.

floorboard truth

so full of excuses
for why things don’t
get better—
i write poetry for no one

poem to end all human suffering

at the end of every
miserable night
brush yr teeth,
for if you don’t,
yr gonna
fuck it all

January 24th 2020

smoke spirals towards the sky
from the lit cigarette
in her left hand

the snow in the trees
and on the ground
and everywhere
is white,

it remains as snow

i take a picture
from the bathroom window
that she’ll never see,
that no one will ever see

finishing Mick Guffan before i get my kids

a tiny bug
landed on the
remaining pages.
my right pointer
attempted to
shoo it away.
little gnats are
no match for
human fingers.
red blood smeared
across top corners
of four bent pages.
i laugh and
finish the book.