Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Star Charts

 A mute inventory.
 Dots eternally thrown onto dark blue;
 the scorpion chasing Orion
 from the din of your drunk voice,
 so unpredictable, so uncanny.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017


 was this home? Hardly
 I recognize the heavy shelves,
 dust gathering on the books
 we read together

 Weatherworn the awning;
 the kitchen table deserted;
 you rarely leave the ez chair now,
 skipping from channel to channel to
 white noise.

 Buried in clutter
 the porch where I didn't yet
 dare to kiss you. You forget;
 you forget that you forget,
 curse imaginary friends,
 invent new enemies. How
 did I miss your mean streak?

 I don't think
 we'll have fireworks
 this year.

Monday, June 12, 2017

Strawberry Moon

 No, there isn't
 room for everyone at this table.
 The strawberries and cream
 won't feed you. The sticky
 aftertaste of warm sparkling
 wine won't keep this family

 together. Your home
 isn't theirs. Their pride
 isn't yours. But still

 under the same moon.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Homesick Alien

 Pink plush raccoons lined up
 in their composite packaging:
 some already
 freed, almost
 owned, almost
 loved, almost

 a memory of our foolish games.
 Arisen from metal shelves,
 pink plastic eyes, holding
 on. Pretend play

 like when

 any road
 leads over the seven hills of Somerville,
 any sunrise
 lights up the Atlantic.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

O Be Joyful

 O be joyful:
 For none of this you made
 and none of this needs you.

 You may walk in light,
 unaccounted for;
 you may share in your friends' blessings,
 uninvited; and today,
 no one will come to collect your sins.

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Gender Warrior

 I am no one's savior
 but my own.

 What you call survival,
 what you call inspiration
 is merely the refusal to vacate
 the space I've been assigned:

 and for every word
 twenty others still die.

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Homeland Security

 A clear view across the dirt, the naked branches.
 A house not ruled by fear and lies:
 Where we're many, not one.
 Never just one, never again.

Sunday, December 18, 2016


 Sing simplicity, sing history,
 the things not tainted
 by complicated evils,
 not twisted into allure.

 Evil and allure'll still be here

 But so will we,
 feasting on survival,
 thriving on curiosity.